Fighting With Fire
by heroesfan1
Summary: What would happen if Claire had saved Meredith by negotiating with Sylar? AU from 3x13 onwards.
1. Dual

**Dual, 3x13**

**Summary: What if Claire had managed to save Meredith by making a deal with Sylar?**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Heroes, just love it.**

Claire picked up the phone and jabbed at the buttons. When she didn't hear any dial tone, she gave up and slammed the phone down. "It's dead." She remarked to no one in particular.

"It doesn't surprise you, does it? He's put us all on lockdown." Angela asked, face as serene as ever. Claire felt like smashing her face in. Why wasn't she panicked, or angry or _something_? Her expression was so calm, she could have been having tea at The Plaza for all the emotion she showed. Claire became restless and shook at the metal bars on the windows. Darn him and his stupid emo-ness. Everytime things went right for her, he'd show up and then everything would start going wrong again. Of course, it wasn't always his fault, her family was hardly blameless, but still. This made her even more angry and she rattled the windows harder, before giving up and stepping away. "You're only giving him what he wants." Angela admonished her. Claire sighed and turned to face her grandmother as she continued. "A child starved for attention throws a temper tantrum." Angela explained slowly, as if Claire was a very small child. "Well, I'd like to give him a good spanking." She shot back, getting fed up. She didn't care about Sylar's murderous, attention seeking habits, all she wanted to do was grab Angela, Meredith and her dad and get out of the creepy building. As if on cue, the phone began to ring.

Claire stepped hesitantly toward it, keeping a firm grip on her gun. If this was a perfect world, it would be her dad telling her that he had managed to blow out Sylar's sick twisted brains and that they could all go home now. But, of course, the world was never perfect. _When did I get so bitter? _She wondered to herself as she pressed the speaker button. Sylar's voice rang through the room.

"There is a way to stop this, Claire. You want to be a Company agent, hunt down bad guys, that means making hard choices just like your daddy." He chuckled bitterly. "And lets face it; you are just like your daddy." _No, I'm not!_ Claire wanted to scream at him, but her throat was too dry and her mouth refused to open. He continued, "Okay, I will allow dad, you and bio-mom to walk out of here alive to live happily ever after, all you have to do is take your shotgun, hold it up to Angela's head, and pull the trigger." Claire's breath caught in her throat. What kind of sick game was he playing at? He wanted _her_ to kill..? Her eyes met Angela's and for the first time Angela's eyes reflected that maybe she knew things were'nt going to work out so well after all.

''Oh!" Sylar gave a small snort of derision. "Is she even worth protecting? She wanted to blow up New York city, murdered her husband...Okay, tried." He corrected. "And most importantly, lied to_ me_." Claire mentally rolled her eyes at him. Out of those three things, that was most important? Seriously? "Made me believe I had a mother and a family and then took it all away." He ranted. "But," His voice was taunting now, "If you're dead set on keeping her alive, you could always just give me daddy." Never, Claire thought, heart racing. There has to be some other option, one that would require neither of her family members getting killed. "Why are you doing this?" Claire choked out, voice desperate as she tried to figure out another possible end-game. What if she...? No...There had to be another way, she thought, but she knew this was the only other possible scenario he might even consider.

"You should ask your dad sometime, about what he and Elle did to me." Claire's brow furrowed. What was he talking about? "I could have been a nobody, instead of the monster I became." His voice was tinged with something that sounded alot like regret to her,but she pushed the thought out of her mind. Sylar was a psychopath, they didn't tend to feel regret. His voice continued on, malice lacing his words, "And now Elle's dead, and very soon your father may be too, it's your choice or fault. All you gotta do is get rid of Angela." He waited for her to make her choice.

Claire took a deep breath, time for her to become a hero. "Wait..." Her voice crackled over the phone, and Sylar's ears perked up. Was she actually going to try and reason with him? This was going to be interesting. "What if I offered you something else?" Her voice was reluctant and frightened and he knew this was what she deemed her last resort. "What if instead of killing one of them, I give you..." Claire sighed resignedly, feeling defeat wash over her. "Me instead?" Both Sylar's and Angela's eyes flew open, one in surprise and the other in surprise _and_ horror. Sylar chuckled. "And what would I do with _you_?" He asked increduously. "Have you cheer me on, wave your little pom-poms for me? No thanks, cheerleader. You don't have what I need anymore."

Claire grit her teeth. If he called her cheerleader one more time..."Sylar, _please_. I'm begging here, just take me and leave my family alone.." Angela's face was taut and Claire thought her eyeballs were going to drop out, her eyes were open so wide. "And you think I care whether your begging or not?" Sylar mocked. "You following me around would just slow me down, not to mention, I don't particularly want someone trying to kill me in my sleep."

Claire tried to reason with the man. "Fine, but if you really want to get back at both my dad and Angela, you'll take me. I mean, I'm not sure about Angela, but I'm pretty sure it'll tear my dad apart when he finds out you took his precious little Claire-bear away from him. Please, just consider it. You can use me as leverage, make me do anything you want. Just leave my family the hell alone." Claire couldn't believe this, she was actually begging this guy to kidnap her. How much more fucking twisted could her life get? Sylar seemed to consider this for a second, before chuckling humorlessly."All right, Claire-bear...This should be interesting if anything. Five minutes, meet me at the entrance. If this is a trap, Claire, I will personally behead your darling daddy and Angela...And I'll make_ sure_ you're watching." The line went dead, and Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to look at Angela, who was staring at her with a mixture of pride, horror and sadness. Claire smiled sadly and hugged her. This could be the last time she ever saw her, after all. "Tell my dad and Meredith I love them." Angela nodded, a tiny tear slipping free from her stone-cold demenour. "I think they already know." Claire dropped her gun on the couch beside Angela, and ran from the room, only once looking back. Angela watched her go, sad but silent. Surprisingly, she hadn't seen this one coming.

* * *

Nathan was going ballistic. Not that Peter expected anything else, but still. It kinda hurt when you're big brother screams at you for saving his life. Egotistical bastard.

"That wasn't me, that was you!" Nathan screamed, a vein on his neck sticking out quite prominently. _Glad you noticed, genius_.

"You took the formula! Everything you're against!" He reprimanded, pacing back and forth. _What was this, state-the-obvious day?_ How about a thank you, Pete, thank you so much for saving me and stopping my dangerous and stupid plan?

Peter wiped a bead of sweat off his brow, gasping for breath. "I had no other choice." He pleaded, walking towards Nathan.

"Why'dya save me, huh? Why'dya do it?" _Because your my brother, asshole!_

"Because you're my brother and I love you." He said, eyes earnest.

Nathan looked at him as if he wanted to kill him. _Rose-tinted glasses._ His mother's words from barely 2 years ago rang in his ears.

"It wasn't what I would've done." The words hit Peter like a slap, and it kind of was. Perhaps, the ultimate slap in the face.

Peter smiled sadly. "I know." Nathan turned away from him, and before he knew it, was flying away from him. Peter stared up at the night sky, watching Nathan fly off until he was nothing but a tiny speck of dust. He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly exhausted. Damn. He _so_ needed a drink.

* * *

Just when Ando and Matt were almost certain that Daphne and Hiro had been either killed by Arthur Petrelli(Matt's theory) or were being tortured and held for questioning(Ando's theory), the two of them sped into the room, looking triumphant. Hiro looked relieved and proud as he tore the white paper into shreds and walked over to Ando, holding up his hands in victory. As Matt and Daphne embraced, Ando and Hiro did too, and all of them shared a mutual feeling of triumph, right and victory. But, of course, that couldn't last very long...

* * *

"I hate you." Claire stated, as she walked towards the shadowed figure at the entrance of Primatech. He just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Claire-bear. You're the one who offered yourself up." Just as their about to leave, the sound of a gun cocking stops them . Claire's heart raced with the hope that maybe, just maybe, she isn't going to have to do this, that her dad, the ultimate hero will succeed in saving her. Instead, she feels Sylar's arms wrap around her neck, and she knows that he's won this round. Her dad will never risk her getting hurt, not even though he knows she's immortal. She feels hot tears slipping down her face as she sees her dad's horrified expression and Meredith's outraged one. "I've got her now." Sylar says, and she just _knows _he's smirking. Asshole. "Bye dad, bye mom. Tell Lyle and my other mom I love them," she manages to choke out before Sylar has dragged her out the doors. The last thing she hears before they are gone is the sound of bullets ricocheting of metal. As Sylar forces her into a car and they drive off, Claire wonders if she'll ever see any of them again. It feels good, however, to for once be the hero, even though she's kinda still the victim.

* * *

_End of Volume Three, Villains_

_On the 6th day, God created man in his own image. Now, it's all up to us to figure it out. Right, wrong. Good, Evil. In each of us is the capacity to decide what drives our actions. So, what is it that makes some of us choose selflessness, the need to devote oneself to something greater, while others know only self-interest, isolating themselves in a world or their own making? Some seek only love, even if it's unrequited, while others are driven by fear and betrayal. There are those who see their choices as dark proof of God's absence, while other's follow a path of noble destiny. But in the end, good, evil, right or wrong, what we choose is never what we really need, for that is the ultimate cosmic joke, the real gift of what god has left behind~Sylar_

* * *

_Volume Four, Fugitives_

_There is good and there is evil, right and wrong, heroes and villains, and if we're blessed with wisdom, then there are glimpses between the cracks of each, where light streams through. We wait in silence for these times, when sense can be made, when meaningless existence comes into focus and our purpose presents itself. And if we have the strength to be honest then what we find there staring back at us is our own reflectin, bearing witness to the duality of life. That each one of us is capable of both the dark and the light, of good and evil, of either, of all. And destiny, while marching ever in our direction, can be rerouted by the choices we make, by the love we hold on to, and the promises we keep.~Mohinder_

* * *

Sylar watched Claire carefully from the driver's seat. She hadn't said a single thing since they left Pinehearst. "What?" She finally snapped, feeling irritated at his constant observation of her. She wasn't a lab rat for him to study and she could practically feel his eyes on her. "Nothing. Just wondering how did I get so lucky as to be able to spend my Friday night with the mystery that is Claire Bennet." He mocked. She rolled her eyes at him. "You're gonna start mocking me now? Seriously, now? It's barely been an hour since I threw myself into your company, give a girl a break." She expected him to continue with his mocking but instead he just rolled his eyes and turned back to the road. _Thank god_, Claire thought to herself. She didn't really feel very chatty right now.

* * *

_Three weeks later..._

"I think our only option at this point is to get the U.S government involved." Nathan finished and leaned back on the soft leather seats in the limousine, trying to read the expression on the president's face. The president shifted slowly through the files he put together; the ones on Tracy Strauss, Micah Sanders, Mohinder, Parkman, _Sylar_. His brain freezes in fury at the latters name and remembered the phone call from his mother, the one where she told him how Claire voluntarily gave herself up to Sylar, in order to preserve their lives. God, she is so much like Peter. "All the evidence you need is there, in that file." The president slowly nodded. "Fine. I will provide whatever you need." Nathan smiles, and it's that cool, shark-like smile that both Peter and Heidi hate. "Thank you, Mr. President." He slid to the edge of the limousine and got out, shivering slightly in the cold air of Washington.

**My first idea in weeks! So psyched...Writers block is officially over! Woohoo!**

**To be continued...**


	2. A Clear And Present Danger: Part 1

**A Clear And Present Danger, 3x14(Part 1)**

Tracy stepped into her apartment, leisurely picking up the phone. "Hello, Governor." She smiled as she picked up the phone. "Really? Is he on now?"

She flicked on the TV. Sure enough, there he was, being interviewed by some stuffy old reporter from Channel 5. "There are some people who are frankly stunned by your seemingly meteoric uprise." The reporter stated. "In the Senate less than three months, and already seemingly closely allied with the president on what some people are calling unprecedented access to the average American's most private details." She watched him carefully as he shifted in his seat and leaned back against it, smiling leisurely. _He's about to lie his ass off_.

"Steve, I'm just a humble junior Senator from New York. But as Chairman of the Senate commision on Homeland Security, it's my duty to protect and serve the people of America."

Tracy rolled her eyes, and let his words wash over her. He wasn't even looking at the camera, his eyes were on the ground. For a politician, he was a really bad liar. "I assure you Governor, I don't know any more about this than you do." She made her way to the her bedroom, clutching her phone to her ear as she undressed and slipped on her robe. "Trust me. That's ancient history. Haven't spoken to him in close to two months." She turned on the TV in her room and leaned down to take off her high heels, feeling tiredness wash over. "Now, if you don't mind, I do have to get _some_ sleep." She smiled as she hung up. She heard Nathan's interview playing, not really listening. She was too tired to deal with his political mishaps right now. She sighed as she folded up her dress, looking over at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Just as she was about to turn away, she noticed her bathroom window was open. That was strange. She had never opened it; not once, not since she moved in. She looked around, trying to gauge whether anything had been taken. Slowly, she walked over to the window, closing it and latching it. _Must have opened it at some point_, she told herself, _and probably just forgotten about it_. She tried hard to ignore the feeling of unease that was seeping into her bones. She shook her head and glanced back at the TV screen. Nathan was still talking, and still lying his ass off. She smiled wryly and turned back to her bedroom. Stupid bastard. Her heart stopped and she gasped. A man, in some sort of combat gear and a gun stood in front of her. What the hell? She latched herself onto the man and felt the ice seep out of her hands. This _was_ self-defence, after all.

However, the combat suit was made out of some kind of material that seemed to combat her powers and she threw herself backwards and ran in the direction of her living room. Did they know about her power? How else would they know to equip themselves like that? She ran towards the door, questions racing through her mind. But, no. There were more of them, with their strange looking guns. Panic seized her and she tried hard to push past them, but they pushed her toward the ground and she stumbled backward. She got to her feet shakily, glancing around the room. _Who were these people? _They cornered every possible escape route. "You want me to beg?" She asked, trying her best not to show the fear that was slowly building inside of her. "Well, I don't beg for anyone!" She stood in the circle of, well, whatever they were, and tried not to shiver in fear. Were they rapists? Was this some kind of political scheme? She watched as another one of them emerged. This one looked slightly different. His eyes weren't covered. She searched his eyes carefully for any emotion, but his expression was unreadable. "What do you want?" The man didn't reply, he simply raised his gun and then...Jet blackness.

* * *

"I really, really hate you." Claire repeated as they stepped into the dingy motel room. Sylar just shot her an amused look. "You've said that several times over the past few weeks, Claire. Just in the interest of making conversation, what did I do now?"He flopped down on the bed, and observed her curiously, arms behind his head.

She gestured to the single bed. "You wouldn't let me get my own room, which is understandable, with you not wanting me to escape and all... But you couldn't even get two seperate beds?" Sylar sighed. "I asked the guy behind the counter, but he said they didn't have a room with two seperate beds. Besides, I don't see what the problem is." He smirked. "There's plenty of room for both you and.." A pillow hit his face before he could finish the sentence. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. End of story."

She grabbed two pillows from the bed and a blanket from the cupboard. "I'll take the floor." Sylar shrugged, and leaned back, closing his eyes. "Your choice." Claire rolled her eyes and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. After a few minutes, Sylar heard the shower stop running and hesitant footsteps toward the bathroom door. Then someone, presumably Claire, slamming her head against the wall. His brow furrowed. What was she doing in there? Finally, after a few minutes, she walked out, but she wasn't wearing anything other than her bra and boy shorts. He raised his eyebrows, watching her carefully as she covered herself in the motel's blanket. Shame. "Uh, Claire?" She scowled at him. "Shut up. I don't have anything else, okay?" She turned away from him and set the pillows down on the floor, wrapping the blankets around herself tightly before lying down. He shrugged and yawned, then grinned. "You could always borrow my shirt, you know," He suggested slyly. She sat up straight in her make-shift bed, eyes narrowed. "I'd rather make out with a hobo." She confided, eyes deadly. He chuckled and flicked off the lights. She was always so _fun_ to mess with. It was one of the real perks of bringing her along.

* * *

Ando sighed and closed his eyes. What was Hiro up to now? He heard the sound of something clanging behind him. "Open your eyes." Hiro commanded in Japanese. Ando reluctantly complied, wondering what this was all about. He turned towards the sound of Hiro's voice and was faced with what looked like an old garage. A really big old garage. "Used to be an old firehouse. I pulled some strings," Hiro continued proudly, "Bought it from the city. Now, it's our lair." Ando's head spun. Lair? What was this, Batman? Was this his 'batcave'? "This is our what?" He asked, staring around the room in a mixture of terror and wariness. Hiro had been at him for weeks, talking about his 'destiny' and his 'ultimate quest for justice.' Ando had told him multiple times that the only quest he was going on was the one on his online roleplay games. But Hiro was stubborn if anything. He sighed and tried to reiterate this point. "We've been over this Hiro, the only quest I'm going on is..." He trailed off as he caught sight of what Hiro was holding in his hands. "What is that?" He asked, eyes narrowed.

Hiro held up the hideous costume proudly. "A superhero must hide his true identity. You're going to look very badass in the rest of your costume." Ando raised his eyebrows and took the costume from Hiro, fingering the material. There was no way he was going out anywhere in this thing! Let alone running around the city and fighting crime. It looked like an advertisment for a electrical company! And it was Spandex!

"There is no way I am ever going out in that, Hiro." Ando stated matter-of-factly as he returned the costume to it's place. "But..." Hiro protested, until Ando held up his hands for silence. "Hiro, we both know what this is about. You don't have your powers anymore, so you want to live through me." Ando shook his head. He felt sympathy for Hiro, losing his powers must have been a blow, but what could he do? Wait for another superhero to show up and then super-charge _them_? Hiro tried to deny it but they both knew it was true. "But my power is worthless, Hiro." At this, Hiro shook his head vehemently. "You are a super-charger!" Hiro protested. "For other people's powers!" But Hiro still refused to accept this. "Children will speak of your crime fighting abilities for years!" He smiled enthusiastically. "Yes, right after they stop laughing at how I am dressed," Ando scoffed. "Ando," Hiro's face lost some of it's childlike joy, "It is your destiny to become a superhero." Ando's shoulders fell. There was no argument that he could use against Hiro to convince him he was wrong. He wasn't a hero, he was a sidekick. He shook his head at Hiro, "Forget it. I'm not interested." He turned away from Hiro defiantly. But, no, there was no way Hiro would give up that easily.

"Well, let's see if you feel that way after you see the Ando-cycle!" Hiro exclaimed, walking over to a sheathed object in the middle of the room. This peaked his interest. He walked over to Hiro, and even Ando had to admit the Ando-cycle was kind of...Badass. It was a shiny motorcycle, with red lightning strikes on it similar to the ones on the leather jacket and the Spandex-suit Hiro had got him. "It's a motorcyle!" He exclaimed, running his hands over it excitedly. He could just imagine it; him driving down the road with an army of girls chasing after him. It was times like these Ando was glad that Hiro didn't have Matt Parkman's power. "Not any motorcycle," Hiro corrected, smiling as he handed Ando a matching helmet,"Go ahead. I've embedded the latest two-way communication all from right here at base camp." He tapped the keyboard of the computer and it sprang to life. "You just enter the password." Ando smiled, setting himself down on the motorcycle, or Ando-cycle. "Let me guess," Ando chuckled, "I don't get to know the password." Hiro shook his head with a wry smile. "Not even a clue?" He pleaded, curious. Hiro considered this for a moment, before relenting. "It's the name of someone very important to me." Hiro entered something into the computer and turned back to face him, toying with something that looked like a gun. "Once I've entered the password, I can track your location anywhere on the planet with your GPS implant." Huh? "What GPS implant?" Ando asked, confused. Hiro held the gun to his arm and before he could react, had injected him with something.

"Ow!" Ando rubbed his stinging arm. "I can't believe you did that to me!" Hiro rolled his eyes. Always overreacting. "Don't worry, I did the same thing to my self. It only hurts for the first hour." He grinned at Ando, hoping he would join in his enthusiasm. Ando just stared at him like he was crazy. "You're insane! You know what, I've had it with you!" He shook his head at Hiro and reached for his helmet. "Find yourself another superhero!" He revved up the engine and with that he was out of there, leaving Hiro in his dust.

* * *

"Come on." Peter pushed harder on the man's chest, willing him to breathe again. Hesam stared at him in concern. He knew Peter was well-meaning, but this was too much. It bordered on crazy. The man had stopped breathing half an hour ago!

"Peter," He tried gently, trying to wake him out of the trance he seemed to be in. "Peter! Stop!" Finally, Peter seemed to hear him, and looked up. He didn't stop pumping the man's chest, though. "Peter, stop." He tried more gently. "The man's dead. He bled out in the car." Peter's arms stopped moving and he slumped dejectedly. "I could have saved him." Hesam shook his head at Peter. "No, you couldn't. Like I said, he bled out in the car." Peter shook his head, looking morose. "I should have gotten to him faster." He stood up, moving away from the dead man. Hesam pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Why couldn't he get this point across to Peter. "He was pinned down in there! You can't save everyone, you know." Peter's lips twitched at this, but his eyes were still solemn. He turned away from Hesam, seemingly overcome with guilt. "I can try." Hesam sighed. Peter could be so stubborn sometimes.

* * *

"Whoa!" Matt looked up in alarm as something whizzed into the apartment at a deadly speed, sending papers flying into the air. Matt sighed. He had told her to stop doing that. For one, it gave him a heart-attack, and secondly, they had agreed; no powers. Matt shook his head and went back to toying with the remains of his breakfast. Seeing him, Daphne grinned. "Oh hey..." She smiled, "I was just.." He raised his eyebrows at her and finished her sentence. "Working?" Her grin faded._ He knew_. No point in trying to deny it now. "Uh..Yeah..I got done with all my morning deliveries, so I thought I'd just come home." She smiled, hoping to ward off the lecture that was almost sure to come hrer way. He snorted. "At 10.30?" He pushed away from the table and made his way to the sink, dumping his plate into the dishwasher. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you spying on me?" She asked, suspicion lacing her words.

"Maybe." He answered, washing his hands. He didn't offer and apology and didn't say anthing else. It was obvious that he thought she was to blame. She sighed and folded her arms, walking over to him.

"Look, I know we promised no powers, but..do you know how long it takes to get across mid-town on a bike?" She tried, pleading with him. It was true; she had gotten on the bike but after a few minutes of going as slow as snail, she had decided to, urm...speed things up a little. Patience was _not_ one of her virtues. Matt chuckled, looking up at her in annoyance. "Yes, that's kind of the idea." She sighed. God, did he have to be so, so...Stubborn? Why couldn't he just loosen up a little? It was not like people were going to complain about getting their mail faster.

She tried to make him see her perspective. "Yeah, but I'm done early...We can go to the zoo or something..." She smiled winningly at him. He had promised her he would take her. It was the one place in New York she hadn't gone to. Instead, the frown on his face grew. "Some of us still have to put in a full day. You know," He said, moving around her to sort out some mail, "I could use my ability to work my way to the top of the police force but do I?" She rolled her eyes, losing patience. "No. 'Cause you're a bodyguard that makes 12 bucks an hour." She ran her fingers through her hair, annoyed and frustrated.

"At least it's honest work." He rebuttled, glaring at her.

"When you should be setting up your own private detective agency like you want!" She leaned in closer to him. "I told you, I can get you the money!"

He just turned away from her, rifling through the mail. "I'm not using stolen money to start up a business, Daphne." He sighed. "What's wrong with trying to live like normal people?" He sounded exasperated. Daphne turned to face him again. "It's boring, for one thing." This seemed to only annoy him further. "Well, I'll take boring any day, over this bizzaro world I've been in ever since this whole thing got started." He sighed again and got up, bringing his arms around her and pulling her close. She let him, but still didn't say anything. "Come on," He pleaded, "We talked about, putting it all behind us and just having a normal life together. Simple, good, normal." A ghost of a smile flitted over her face. As much as she hated to admit it, that sounded good. Matt smiled, he had gotten through to her. He turned to his left, and found Usutu. Shit. He was hallucinating again. He turned away, but Usutu followed his eyes, and this time appeared right next to him. "Just..normal.." He repeated, distinctly less sure of himself. Daphne turned around to face him, smiling. He quickly shifted his attention back to her. "Fine, you win," She brushed her lips over his slightly, "Normal it is." She gave him a small peck again, before turning away and making her way to the bedroom. Matt just stayed where he was, pondering Usutu's sudden reappearance. This could not be good.

* * *

Footsteps. Sylar's eyes flew open. He could hear footsteps. He sat up straight in bed, hair sticking up at odd angles. His eyes flitted to Claire's makeshift bed on the ground. It was empty. Oh shit. His shoulders tensed when he heard jiggling coming from the lock in the bathroom. "Darn this stupid, stupid lock!" He heard Claire's frustrated cursing grow louder and the doorknob shaking got more frequent and more violent. He groaned and rolled over, trying to cover out her cursing with his pillow, but it didn't work. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he walked over to the door and yanked it open.

"God, Claire could you-" She stumbled forward onto his chest, knocking him onto the ground. He growled and rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. "-keep it down. Some people are trying to sleep here." Claire struggled underneath him, trying to push him off. "Get off, Sylar." His grin widened as she thrashed under him. Payback time. "Are you sure? I kinda like this position, Claire-bear." Her eyes narrowed and her struggling grew more panicked. "Come on, get off." He leaned forward until their noses were touching, then rolled off her and got to his feet. "I'm many things, Claire, but I'm not a rapist." He shook his head and glanced at the clock on the wall. 7.32 am. 2 minutes off. "We're leaving." He announced abruptly, turning to Claire, who was trying to cover her very-exposed self under her blanket. He rolled his eyes. "No use being shy, I've already seen everything." He leaned down towards her. "And I have photographic memory. So I can remember, e_very_ single detail." She shivered under his gaze and glared at him, unable to think of a response, before turning away and heading into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she emerged fully dressed. "Let's go." She walked out of the door, barely daring to glance at his face. She had a really strong feeling she was _never _going to hear the end of this. Literally.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sylar stopped the car outside a dusty old building that resembled the old laundry place that Sandra always used to take her cheerleading costume, except the sign on the front of the building read, 'Harbor Watchshop: Repair and Buy.' She turned to face Sylar, whose expression was unreadable. "What are we doing here?" When he didn't answer her, her eyes widened in terror. "Are we here to kill somone?" He tensed, then flung open the car door. "We're here to see my father." Claire leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes for a few moments before getting out of the car and following him. _Sylar's father? Oh joy._

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The inside of the shop looked no better than the outside. It was run-down and dirty, and it had dust lining the shelves. The only thing that Claire found interesting about the shop was the dozens of watches and old-fashioned clocks. They were beautiful. She fingered a silver pocket watch, wondering how much it was worth. Sylar, however, seemed fascinated by something on the worktable, even though it was a rather normal watch with brown leather straps. He was muttering under his breath as he turned it around in his hands and held it up to his ear. She could barely hear what he was saying over the old record that was playing but it sounded a lot like, "Two seconds off...Cork..loose.." She stepped nearer towards him, studying the watch in his hand. He had removed the backing and was now tweaking with one of the wheels and screws, using his telekenisis to tighten them. Claire stepped closer and closer, until she was peering right over his shoulder. It _was_ actually pretty fascinating, the way he was just able to fix it like that. She had been under the impression that the only thing he knew how to do was poke around in people's brains and screw up people's lives. She watched as he slipped the backing of the watch back on and stepped away from the table, smiling almost proudly. "That's so cool." She whispered, picking up the watch again and staring at it. She glanced at him curiously. "How'd you do that?" He was staring at her dazedly, as if he'd forgotten she was there, and was he _blushing_? He ran a hand through his hair, seemingly flustered. "Ah..you know..." He muttered something about being a man of many talents, but without his usual cocky grin or surefire confidence. She was about to pursue the topic more, but the cocking of a gun interrupted her. Out of reflex, she stepped in front of Sylar, shielding him with her body. His reaction was more relaxed, just barely glancing up at the man holding the gun, as if it were a normal thing that happened everyday. Well, for him she guessed it was kind of normal. The man with the gun was quite old and had white hair, and wore big black glasses with these magnifying glass thingies attached to them. He didn't look very threatening, nothing like Claire had imagined. She was picturing something along the lines of Count Dracula or maybe Hannibal. "You move and I shoot," The man was saying. Like that would help."Damn thief. You think you can come into my shop without me hearing ya?" It was obvious that the man was trying to put on a brave front, but she could see his fingers shaking. She almost sighed in relief. She had been really afraid the guy was going to be like Sylar; a violent, psychopathic serial killer.

Sylar was looking at the man with a mixture of hurt and betrayal. He looked almost..._vulnerable_. Who was this guy? He looked down at the workshop table, then back up at the man, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Martin...Martin Gray." So this was the man they'd been looking for for two weeks. Sylar had sifted through the Yellow Pages for days, looking for every Martin Gray that was listed. She didn't know what exactly was his process of elimination, but it had somehow landed them here. She saw the man who was presumably Sylar's father's eyes widen. "Do I know you?" At this, Sylar's eyes hardened. It wasn't exactly his murdering-psychopath look, more like a man who was angry and had been hurt.

"Did you live at 423 Kanwar Street, Queens, 27 years ago?" Sylar's voice was objective and emotionless, and she knew this was a sore subject for him. It was the same tone she used to use to talk about her biological parents to Noah and Sandra. "It was snowing," He dropped his gaze to the worktable as if looking for something to look at and she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but that just could have been her imagination. "You went out for a pack of ciggarettes at 10 o'clock and never came back." The man's mouth was hanging open now, and she felt the anger in Sylar's gaze pressing into her back. "Or so the story goes. Kind of cliche, don't you think?" Sylar's eyes searched the old man for a reaction. "Who are you?" Martin's voice was barely a whisper now. "I'm your son. And I have some questions for you."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Martin lowered his gun, staring at Sylar as if he was trying to place him from the boy he had left 27 years ago. He laid the gun down on the floor and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "I'm a very different person now," Martin said briskly._ So am I, _Sylar thought to himself."It was a long time ago." Sylar's brown eyes flashed dangerously and Claire gripped his shirt sleeve tightly, trying to prevent him from doing anything rash. He looked down at her amusedly. It was like she was trying to calm him down or restrain him or something. How cute. He removed her hands from him and moved past her, closer to Martin. "Maybe for you." He could hear the vulnerability in his voice and he hated it. He sounded like _Gabriel_. This statement didn't seem to guilt Martin at all, he just leaned back in his chair and stared at Sylar, as if pondering about him. Finally, he said, "You said you had questions. Well, ask them." He stared up at Sylar expectantly.

"How does a boy," Sylar asked, pacing, "without a father, grow up to be a man? How does he learn to make the hard decisions he's gonna have to make in life? The ones only a man can teach?" Sylar wanted to bury his face in his hands. He didn't sound like himself anymore. He sounded like the desperate, pathetic, watchmaker who had lived in Queens and lived with his mother. He sounded _weak_. He hated being weak.

Martin leaned on his desk, using his hands for support as he got to his feet. His eyes flashed with something that looked like resentment. "You wanna apology, is that it? You wanna hear 'I'm sorry for walking out on you and your mother'?" He smirked and Sylar's finger itched to draw a line across the man's forehead. He shook his head at Martin. "I just want the truth." Claire almost sqeaked in surprise. He sounded exactly like her when she talked to Noah. "What about?" Martin scoffed. "That your mother was a _sick,_ infantile woman?" He pushed a way from the desk and moved over to the worktable, grabbing the watch that Sylar had been fixing. "Or that I made a mistake ever to have a child with her?" Sylar's world shook and he glared at the old man with accusing eyes. "Well, lets start there, because you never had a child with her." He cocked an eyebrow at the man, challenging him. The look on his face was exactly the same as Samson's when he had left home the first time. It was like looking into a mirror.

Martin sighed. He had promised his wife he would never tell their 'son' about the deal he had made with Samson, but he already seemed to know, so there didn't seem to be much of a point. "So who am I?" Sylar repeated, impatient. Martin opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. "Tell me." It wasn't a request, it was a demand. He needed to know. Martin leaned back in his seat and paused before speaking. "You were given to me." He finally admitted. Sylar's eyebrows rose and he waited for the telltale tingling in the back of his head. It didn't come. His voice was eerily calm when he finally spoke. "By whom?" Now they were getting somewhere. Martin half-smiled. "By a man who needed money. Your mother wanted a child and couldn't have one, I wanted out of a loveless marriage and was too much of a coward." He sighed, eyes faraway. "It seemed like the right answer at the time." Sylar dropped onto the chair in front of the worktable, leaning forwards. "Who was he?" Martin took a deep breath before admitting, "My brother." A tear slipped down his cheek and Sylar wiped it away quickly, before anyone could see it. Not even Martin saw it, even though he was right in front of him. "Is he still alive?" Sylar asked breathlessly. _Please, please let him be. I need answers. _Martin grabbed a piece of notepaper of his table and scribbled something on it, before handing it over. Samson Gray, it read, then below it, an address. He waited to see if there's any tingle in the back of his head, but there wasn't. "You're telling the truth." Sylar breathed. God, he was so close. He could feel it. "Now, please leave." Martin ordered. Sylar felt Claire sigh in relief at this. It was obvious she was overjoyed at the prospect of leaving. He slowly got to his feet and hesitated for a moment, his finger trembling with the desire to cut the man's head open, to cause him pain, like the pain he had felt when his mother had told him his father had left. It was almost as if Claire knew this, she jerked to life from her position in the corner of the room and grabbed his jacket, dragging him towards the exit. "No need to kill the guy," She whispered as she dragged him towards the door. "Are you sure?" He muttered back.

"Wait..." Martin's voice stopped both of them in their tracks. He looked questioningly at Claire. "Are you his girlfriend?" He asked, rubbing his glasses. "Urm..." Claire hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah, I am." Behind her, Sylar snorted. Martin gave her a small smile. "Take care of him." She smiled. During their little talk, Martin had seemed almost emotionless. It was nice to see he cared at least a little about someone, even if that someone was Sylar. She nodded. "I'll be sure to, Mr. Gray." And with that, the tall, dark haired man and the petite blond cheerleader were gone.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"What was _that_?" Sylar asked, immediately after they got out of the shop. "And how exactly are you going to take care of me?" His tone lowered and he waggled his eyebrows at her. She found herself grinning at him, and the seriousness of his conversation with Martin seemed to melt away in the bright sunlight. "Shut up." She replied, still grinning as she got in the car. "'Cause you know, I have some suggestions..." Sylar followed her into the car, now smiling slightly as well. She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sure you do." After that, they settled into a comfortable silence. "Where are we going?" Claire asked, after a while, noticing that they weren't on the route back to the motel. "First, we're heading to a Target to get some clothes," Sylar replied, "after all, I don't want you to have to strip for me every night." Claire's face turned a bright red, and he smirked. "Unless of course, you want to." Claire glared at him and gave him a hard shove. "Ow..." Sylar rubbed his shoulder, but his smirk stayed.

* * *

Peter stared in silence at the dead body being wheeled into the ambulance truck. He could have saved him. He _should_ have saved him. The scene around him was chaos and heartbreak, a scene he was familiar with, but could never get used to. This was going to be a drinking night, he was sure of it. Hesam walked over to him and started loading things into the ambulance truck he was leaning against. "So, you planning on seeing him?" Peter's brow furrowed, not sure who Hesam was referring to. "Who?" Hesam, smiled at him and clarified. "Your brother. He's in town. Saw him on TV this morning." Peter shrugged. "Not really talking at the moment, but I might. My mom wants to see me, and I've been wanting to drop by and see my niece." Peter frowned as he thought of Claire. She hadn't called him in a few months, not since the whole Pinehearst fiasco. Which was weird, because they usually made it a point to talk at least once a week. "Since you're not talking, maybe you won't mind me being honest. He scares the crap outta me." Hesam leaned against the ambulance cab, looking troubled. Peter's frown grew deeper. "Why's that?" _What's Nathan done now?_ He wondered to himself. "You see, my family's from Iran. The things he's talking about, protecting the country from dangerous people..." Hesam shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "It's code. Not very subtle either." Hesam scoffed. "He's talking about people like me; we're different so we're scary." This caught Peter's attention. _Different. Special. _They were almost the same. What the hell was Nathan up to? He knew it couldn't be terrorists, like most of the people out there were thinking, Nathan didn't believe in terrorist threats. 'All nonsense' he had once scoffed. So what was Nathan talking about, 'protecting the country from 'dangerous' people? "But you wouldn't know anything about that." Hesam continued, oblivious to Peter's worried thoughts. Peter smiled at this. "Believe me, I know more than you think." He slipped on his overcoat, grabbed his bag and made his way onto the road, hailing a taxi. It was time to speak to his brother.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"87th and Madison." A familiar voice called from the backseat. Mohinder glanced into the rearview mirror, and lo and behold, there sat Peter Petrelli. The very man that had almost threathened his existence a few months ago. But, Mohinder was not one to hold grudges, and besides, in Peter's eyes, he thought he was doing the right thing. "Hello, Peter."

Peter looked shocked for a moment, then smiled and chuckled slightly. "Mohinder. This _is _a coincidence. Last time I saw you-" Mohinder cut him off. "I know. It's been a long time." He smiled tightly at Peter in the rearview mirror. "Keeping out of trouble?"

"Trying to." Peter replied in an off-hand manner. "Although, you ever get the feeling like you were meant to do something extroadinary?" Both of them shared a chuckle at this. It was like a rerun of their first meeting. Then Mohinder's expression turned slightly darker and he replied, "I used to. Turns out I was mistaken." He sighed as he turned into another street. Peter nodded in understanding. Sometimes, it was just easier to give up instead of chasing destiny. "Talk to anybody?" Peter asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Try not to. Everybody's under the radar. Except for your brother, of course." Peter twitched visibly. "Well, you know Nathan." He joked bitterly. "Everytime I pick up a newspaper or turn on the TV, there he is; right on in the open," Mohinder sounded almost jealous. "And he's not wrong, you know. These powers, uncontrolled, unrestricted? I see only danger in that." Peter raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" Mohinder nodded, unfazed by Peter's incredulous tone. "I was living proof of it." Mohinder shrugged matter-of-factly. "Okay, so what happens when the government wants to step in?" Mohinder shrugged again, caught off guard by Peter's suddenly serious tone. He smiled lightly at Peter. "That's a necessary risk I'm willing to accept." Peter's expression had darkened and Mohinder could see that his eyes were angry. _Why is he taking this so seriously?_ Mohinder wondered. _It's not like it's actually happening, right?_ "Segregation. Camps. People hiding underground?" Peter shook his head at him, like he couldn't understand him. "I guess in that case, we'll agree to disagree." Mohinder stopped the car directly on the edge of 87th and Madison, and Peter reached for the door, before turning back to face him. "How much do I owe you?" He asked, smiling slightly. Mohinder shook his head. "It's on me." Peter smiled wider and waved. "Thank you. Take care of yourself Mohinder." He opened the taxi door and got out. "You too, Peter." He grinned. Peter was one of the first 'Heroes' he had met. He was the true embodiment of what it meant to be a hero. Selfless, brave and powerful. No matter what happened, he was glad to have met him. He was just about to pull away from the curb when another man in a grey trenchcoat opened the door to his cab and got in. His face was taut and his eyes were hooded. He reminded Mohinder of a corpse. "Where to my friend?" He asked the man, jovially, pulling out of the curb and heading onto the main road.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Peter unlocked the doors of the Petrelli mansion, stepping into the wide, marble-covered foyer. "Ma, Claire, you here?" A lone figure in a suit standing by the window of the balcony answers him. "No, their not home." Nathan turns to face him. "Been a long time, Pete." He continued, smiling slightly. "Sorry, I've been out of touch, I've been a little busy lately." Peter watched his brother carefully; he was clearly on edge about _something_. His shark-smile was in place, and his posture was tense and unnaturally straight. Something was very, very wrong.

"Yeah, I'm sure you have. What with all the press you've been doing." Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked towards Nathan. The shark smile widened. "Ah, the media. They like new and shiny." Peter's eyes narrowed. He hated it when Nathan was in his 'politician' mood. You couldn't trust a word he said when he was like this.

"You go the whole world thinking your talking about terrorists, but we _both_ know who your really talking about." _Accusation._

Nathan smiled at him wryly from his position by the window. "What can I say, Pete, I mean last time I tried to expose us, I got shot. I'm not gonna repeat the same mistake." _Confirmation. _Peter's heart broke.

"So what are you going to do, huh? Kidnap the entire population of us? You seem to be forgetting one, very important detail." Peter stepped closer to Nathan, face contorted with anger. "What's that?" A single tear slipped free from Peter's eye. "You're one of us, Nathan." Peter turned away from Nathan, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. "Tell mom and Claire I said hi." Nathan stalked after Peter, stopping him just before he got to the door.

"Peter, wait!" Peter slowly turned to face him. "What?"

"I'd like to talk to you. How about dinner, tonight? I'll text you where and when." Nathan stared beseechingly into Peter's eyes. Peter slowly nodded, and then without a single word, he was gone.

Nathan grabbed his phone as soon as Peter was out of sight. "Tell Noah Bennet to meet me at my brother's place. I want a peaceful extraction. No one should get hurt."

* * *

Noah stared at Mohinder's limp body. One down, a few hundred to go. His mind wandered to Claire. Sylar had been untraceable for weeks, and that meant Claire was also untraceable. Nathan had guranteed him that he had every available resource looking for Claire, and of course he spent every waking moment of his life trying to find a lead, but so far they had nothing. He cursed and kicked the cement wall in front of him. What was he doing to her now? Was she okay? Would he ever see her again? The questions clouded his mind and he felt his vision go slightly hazy with frustrated tears. He quickly wiped them away before anyone could notice. No matter what happened, at that moment, he swore; he would find Claire, and he would make that son-of-a-bitch pay. Whatever it takes.

**Okay, second chapter done! This is only the first part of A Clear and Present Danger, so if you're wondering why there are so many missing events, it's because this is only the first part. Reviews are awesome, so pls don't forget to leave one! **

**Thank you to cerberus angel, for helping me with some ideas, you were awesome! And you people should really check out her story, The Protector, and the other Sylaire oneshots she has done, their amazing as well:) Also if you are looking for more Sylaire awesomeness, check out julyisfree, Anei, Purple Lex(happy belated birthday!) and PensAreAwesome. They are the best of the best:)**


	3. A Clear And Present Danger: Part 2

**A Clear And Present Danger, 3x14(Part 2)**

Meredith stared out at the vast ocean before her. Noah had bought her a plane ticket to Boston, and had given her a hundred grand, just in case she needed to run. He'd also given her an untraceable phone, so he could contact her if he had any news about Claire. She winced and closed her eyes. Claire. She felt the heat burning in her hands and she tried to calm her self down. She had given herself up, to that..that monster! Unwelcome flashbacks of the dead bodies at Pinehearst flooded her mind. Would Claire be one of them by now? A flame burst into her hand and she quickly extinguished it. She hadn't even gotten to tell Claire she loved her. A tear slid down her cheek._ You never really know what someone means to you until their gone_, Meredith thought wryly to herself. It had happened when she had lost Claire as a baby, and it was happening again. Claire slipped through her fingers every single time, and it hurt. She closed her eyes, and leaned back onto the sand._ Please, if there's a god out there,_ Meredith prayed silently,_ let Claire be okay. And let me see her again._

10 minutes later, the phone Noah had given her beeped. She searched her handbag frantically for it, tossing out half the contents onto the sand around her. _Be okay, be okay, be okay,_ Meredith chanted silently as she fumbled with the phone, fingers shaking. She frowned at the message. It wasn't from Noah.

**Claire is safe. You will find her and Sylar at Samson Gray's house in Newark, New Jersey,  
****5 hours from now. Help them. The address is:  
421 Washington St. Be careful.****-M.S**

One part of her, like around 20 percent of her was relieved that Claire was okay, 80 percent of her was wondering what the hell was going on, and who this M.S was. She thought of Claire, then picked up her car keys. She had bought an old Chevy truck a few miles back, for $300. It was old and worn, but it'd be able to get her to Newark. It was only about about four hours from here. Meredith pulled herself to her feet, wiped away her tears and got in the truck, a disturbingly grim expression on her face. It was time to get her daughter back.

* * *

Matt paced back and forth. This was really getting tiring. The last person he wanted to see was Usutu. No offence to the guy, it was nothing personal. He wanted something normal. He didn't want an African pre-cog only he could see showing up in his kitchen. But, unfortunately, you can't always get what you want. He raised his cup of water to his lips and downed it, closing his eyes. Maybe he was really just hallucinating. But when he opened his eyes again, Usutu was still standing there. Sighing, he walked towards him, almost tripping over his turtle as he did so. He rubbed his eyes, leaning down towards it. "How the hell did you get out of your tank?" He wondered aloud, then deciding he was too tired to bother, stepped over it and walked over to Usutu.

"How did you get into my apartment? What are you doing here?" Matt couldn't help the hostility in his voice. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, waiting for an answer. "I came to deliver a message." Parkman sighed and rubbed his eyes, barely restraining his anger. "It's kinda a long trip, for a message, don't you think?" An amused smile flitted over Usutu's face. "I'm not really here, Parkman. It's an illusion. Like," He gestured to the room around them. "Life." Matt fell onto the chair beside the coffee table, head in hands. It was way too early in the morning for cryptic messages and disappearing and appearing African men. "It's best not to make this anymore difficult than it has to be," Usutu continued. "There are things you'll come to know, along the way of this journey." At this, Parkman was indignant. "No, no, no, no. I've taken _way_ too many journeys already."

Usutu's brown-almost-black eyes regarded him calmly, as if he were a misbehaving toddler. "I know it's difficult to understand, Parkman. But I went through the same thing when _it_ happened to me." Parkman stepped closer to Usutu, eyes blazing. "When _what_ happened to you?"

"The calling." Usutu stated clearly, unfazed by Matt's growing anger and frustration. "To be a prophet. You've been chosen." Matt's eyes widened and he waved his hands about like a drowning bird. "No, no, no, no. I didn't ask to be chosen for anything. All I want is to have a normal life!" Matt was screaming and he was glad Daphne had went out. She'd probably think he was crazy right now. Maybe he was.

"But you're not normal, Parkman." Matt scoffed. Truer words had never been spoken. "And you've known that for a while." Matt ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. All he wanted was to be normal..A life without complications. "The world needs you to tell them the future." Usutu continued. Matt looked at him like he was crazy. He wasn't a pre-cog. He wasn't Isaac-fucking-Mendez! What the hell was Usutu talking about?

"The future?" Matt asked incredulously. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"You'll paint it." There was no doubt in the former pre-cog's voice.

"Paint it?" Matt yelled incredulously. "I can't even draw!"

"You will learn." Usutu's voice was impatient now, so Matt sat at his desk and picked up a pencil and a paper. "Fine..." He said, resigned. "So what am I supposed to..." He trailed off as his eyes glossed over. He didn't see Usutu disappear, he didn't see wind knock over the taxes he had been doing, he saw...Blood.

* * *

"Ah..There you are, Ando." Hiro smiled and slipped on his headphones. He had been waiting for Ando to stop moving for over an hour. He refused to talk to Ando while he was riding the bike. His father had always told him, never talk on the phone while you are driving. Till this day, Hiro never broke this rule.

"Ando, this is Hiro. Come in!" Hiro still didn't get any response. "I know you're there. Just talk to me." Hiro pleaded. When he still didn't get any response, he sighed. Ando could be so difficult sometimes. Finally, Hiro caved. "Alright, I'm sorry I shot you in the arm, but you'll thank me, I promise!" On the other side of the line, Ando rolled his eyes. He was certain he'd never thank Hiro.

"No, I won't." Hiro smiled as Ando's voice crackled over the headphones. He knew he could get him to talk to him!

"I knew that would work!" Hiro exclaimed triumphantly. "Where are you?"

"I'm fighting crime, just like you asked me to." Ando replied in a monotone as he glanced around him. _Well, I'm not exactly lying_, Ando thought to himself, while looking at the short asian girl in front of him and smiling._ Looking that good should be criminal!_

"I'm looking at you and the Ando-cycle right now." Hiro said, grinning. _I knew I could convince him_, Hiro thought to himself smilingly. He frowned as he zoomed in on Ando's location. He wasn't fighting crime, he was...Hiro put his head in his hands, ashamed. "You're not fighting crime. You're at a strip club!" Hiro's irate voice accused over the earpiece. Ando rolled his eyes as he made small-talk with one of the girls. "You should be using your powers for good, not to pick up girls!" Hiro sounded absolutely disgusted with him. "The Ando-cycle is a chick magnet." He whispered softly, hoping none of the girls would hear him and that after hearing that, Hiro would just shut up and let him enjoy this...

"You have a destiny, just as I did..." Hiro ranted, and Ando's dreams of silence from him were crushed. "A sacred duty to use your powers to do great things in the world!" Hiro's voice grew higher and louder, and for the first time, Ando understood just how angry Hiro was at him. He wasn't angry because he had powers and Hiro didn't. He was angry because he had been given powers, and wasn't doing any good with it.

"To fight injustice wherever you find-" Ando moved aside as one of the girls climbed onto his bike. He would apologise to Hiro and everything would be okay and...He heard yelling over the headphones, then screaming. Then silence. "Hiro? Are you okay?" His brow creased as he waited for a response. "Hiro?!What's going on?!" He shoo-ed the girl off his bike and slid on the helmet. He had to find Hiro! He disappeared from the strip club in a haze of gravel and dirt. As Hiro would have said if he had been there, he looked bad-ass.

* * *

Peter sighed in contentment as he walked into his apartment. He had just enough time for a 30-minute nap before having to go meet Nathan. He dropped his mail on his table and shrugged off his coat, rubbing his eyes. God, he was exhausted. He scrolled through his phone messages, hoping to see something from Claire. He was really getting worried about her. She ussually sent him at least one message per week, if she didn't get the chance to call. Or at least an email. But since that night when Pinehearst; nothing. The only thing his mom had said was that Claire had been a little shaken and probably wouldn't be calling for a while. _Maybe I should offer to send her to therapy_, Peter thought to himself. Then he noticed he wasn't alone.

Nathan was standing there, in _his _living room, hands on his hips; waiting. Like a predator stalking it's prey. Peter glanced around the room suspiciously. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, he just knew that he was missing_ something_. Nathan's voice drew him out of his thoughts.

"I know we have dinner plans, there are just somethings I need to talk to you about that can't wait." Peter studied his brother's face carefully. There was something _off_. He had that look on his face; the same look on his face he'd had when he had broken Peter's toy plane when he was five, the same look he had _everytime_ he was about to do something Peter disapproved of.

"Okay.." He replied uncertainly, running a hand through his hair.

"I can only imagine how you feel about me..After, urm..Disowning you the way I did." Nathan stuttered awkwardly and Peter's brow furrowed. Was Nathan about to apologize? Nathan didn't apologize!

"I was selfish, arrogant," He hesitated, "obsessive." The corners of Peter's mouth quirked up. It felt so _good_ when he admitted it.

"Those are your better qualities, Nathan." He couldn't resist thee jab. Nathan just brushed it off, though.

"I know it hasn't been easy, losing me as a brother and a friend. But what I'm doing," Nathan took a step closer to Peter, eyes wide with sincerity, "It's hugely important for this country." He smiled slightly. "For the world." Peter's eyebrows raised and he gave Nathan a sceptical look. It was weird. Only a few weeks ago, Nathan had wanted to give powers to people. Now, he wanted to contain people with powers. If that wasn't indecision, what was?

"I want you to understand that, before you make a decision, that may change your life forever." Nathan continued emotionally.

"I'm not making any decisions." Peter said heatedly. "I'm just trying to live my life as normally as I can." He turned away from Nathan and walked out of his living room, turning the lock on his front door to prevent anyone from interuppting their, urm...Discussion.

"That's just it, Pete." Nathan's voice echoed all around him. "You're not normal." _Neither are you! _Peter felt like screaming, but he knew it would be no use. Nathan, like his mom, just conveniently 'forgot' things when it suited them.

"Pete." Peter turned to look at Nathan, eyes flashing with anger. "Tell me you understand that so I can provide you with the protection that you need." A bitter chuckle escaped Peter. Nathan was using his 'campaign' voice on Peter, like he was just another investor he could persuade with his smooth voice and big words. He placed a hand on Peter's chest and he flinched. "Tell me." His voice had softened slightly.

"Understand?" Peter asked angrily. "Why are you asking me this?" He moved away from Nathan, searching his face for clues. "What is it you're looking for me to say?"

Nathan smiled slightly. Peter was getting better at reading him. "I'm looking for you to say you're with me, and then I'm gone." Nathan promised. Peter's face went completely stony, and he_ knew_, he just knew what he would say. Really, he had known from the beginning, but he had just wanted to give it a shot.

"I can't do that." Peter shook his head stubbornly. "No, I _won't_ do that." He corrected. "I don't know what you're up to, but if it's what I think it is," Peter cocked his head to the side an studied Nathan carefully, as if trying to convince himself that his brother, his _hero, _would never do that. "Then I'm going to fight you with every breath that I have, I swear to god." He glared at Nathan through narrowed eyes, and Nathan almost stepped back at Peter's menancing tone. Who knew Pete could do 'Sylar' scary?

Nathan nodded slowly, and stepped back in disappointment. "Okay." He whispered, nodding at Noah, who was standing behind Peter, poised for action. He smiled at Peter sadly. "Hey, can you give your big brother a hug?" He held his arms wide open, knowing this was possibly the last time he'd ever get to hug Peter like this, the last time Pete might ever allow him to.

Peter looked solemn, but he could see the corners of his mouth lift into a smile. Nathan's heart hurt as he wrapped his arms around his younger brother. When he pulled away, it was like a new world era had begun, or at least, that was how it felt to Nathan. He gave a Noah a nod and then a small smile and Noah plunged forward, sticking the taser onto the spot behind Peter's ear. Peter gave a small yell of surprise before his eyes closed and he fell forward into Nathan's ready arms. "I'm sorry, Pete." He whispered softly into Peter's hair, before setting him gently down on the red vinyl chair their mom had given Peter last Christmas. He turned to Noah, who was staring intently at them.

"Any news on Claire?" Noah enquired after a pregnant pause. Nathan shook his head, eyes darkening slightly. It wasn't true, they actually had a team going forward to take Sylar and Claire down today, but he wasn't going to tell Bennet that. He didn't him to lose focus, not today. "I've got my best man working on it." Nathan turned to leave but Noah stopped him. "I'm your best man." Noah stated, stepping closer to Nathan. "I'm the only man whose ever succesfully captured Sylar. I should be the one to go get my daughter." Noah fought to keep control of his emotions, but he could feel them bubbling up inside him, forcing themselves to the forefront. One look at Nathan's face and it was obvious he'd made some kind of mistake.

"In case you've forgotten, Mr. Bennet," Nathan said in a monotone, "Claire is also_ my_ daughter. And you are more needed here, unless you have solid proof that you know where Claire is." Nathan raised his eyebrows and smirked when Noah didn't say anything. "I thought so." He turned and walked away from a seething Noah. "Don't hurt him," Nathan called as he left the room. Noah's fists clenched. He _really_ hated that guy.

* * *

Meredith watched them from her perch behind the wheel of her beaten-up Chevy truck. Claire looked fine; she didn't look distressed at all. Sylar on the other hand...His shoulders were tense and he wore an expression that was halfway between tormented and sadness. She looked at the sign that hung in front of the old-ish house. "Samson...Samson Gray..." She read. Sylar stopped in his tracks and glanced around him suspiciously, seeming to look right at her truck. "Crap!" She ducked down in her seat. She vaguely remembered the powers Noah told her he had. What were they again? She listed them off in her head as she held her breath and waited to see if he made a move towards her.

Telekenisis, Sound Manipulation, Freezing...Enhanced Hearing._ So that's how he heard her. _She waited until he walked into the house, closely followed by Claire before getting out of the truck and running towards the house. Before she could get very far, though, she felt something stick to the back of her neck, then steady flow of pain and something electric ran through her and the ground rose up to meet her.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Claire stepped hesitantly through the doors of the dusty, unlit house that according to Sylar belonged to his birth father. She wasn't sure what to expect and that and something else was putting her on edge. Something felt...Wrong. She would give anything to be back at Target right now, with it's big, bright lights and un-dust filled shelves. It also lacked fathers of creepy, annoying, murderous serial killers. That was a definite plus.

Samson Gray's house was filled with weird, stuffed animals and she couldn't help but cringe as she walked by a stuffed squirrell. Taxidermy had always creeped her out and as a rule, she was strictly against cutting animals open and stuffing them. But of course, that was just her opinion. _No wonder their related_, she mused, _they both enjoy cutting living things open_. Sylar was a few steps in front of her, staring at something on the mantel. She moved closer to him to peer over his shoulder. What she saw made her smile unconciously. It was a picture of a little boy wearing huge black glasses staring up at the camera and smiling. He had dark hair and huge, brown eyes. He looked vaguely familiar... "Sylar..." He turned to look at her curiously. His posture went rigid and his shoulders tensed. He turned toward her with something dark in his eyes. Claire stared back at him, green eyes wide with confusion. "Is that you?" She whispered, resting a hand on the wooden frame. His eyes darkened even more, and he turned away, sending the photo frame crashing into the wall behind Claire and dismissing the topic. Claire couldn't help herself as she bent down to pick up the pieces of glass on the floor. She carefuly folded the crumpled photo into her pocket. Behind her, she heard Sylar hiss and she turned to face him in panic, finding him huddled over the mantel place.

"What's wrong?" She whispered, hurriedly making her way over to him. She felt her heart beating harder, and she could feel her instincts begging her to run. He held up a still burning ciggarette. "Someone's here." He sneered. "What do you-" She didn't get to finish her sentence as she felt a jolt of electricity bolt through her. She cried out as she felt another jolt sweep through her, trying to keep her eyes open, her hands blindly groping in front of her for something to keep her upright. Through the small opening in her eyes, she could see bolts of blue lightning shoot out from the palms of Sylar's hands and the taser thingies fly backward and away from him. She heard him saying something in a threatening voice and she can hear someone crying out in pain. _Must..Stop him...from... hurting people..._Was all Claire was able to think as she forced herself to open her eyes, and pushed herself up from the floor.

**xxxxxxxxxx  
**

"Sylar, put him down!" Claire had just got to her feet, but she was already going around being good. _Urgh_. He couldn't help but smile a little, though. He always found it terribly cute when she was mad. He ignored her and focused on the man in front of him.

"Who are you?" Sylar demanded, brown eyes fading into black. Claire noted this, dread flooding her veins. Gone was his easy-going persona from only a few hours ago, and here was the monster. The man who Sylar was holding in the air didn't respond to his question, but instead glared at him through slitted eyes, as if he was trying to glare him into the ground. _Oh honey_, Claire felt like saying to the poor man, _I've tried that: sooo doesn't work. _Sylar glared back, and she could feel his temper flaring when the man didn't answer the question. He raised his finger threateningly, and Claire felt her heart slow. She remembered that little move all too well. She lunged forward, knocking his arm away and breaking his concentration. The agent fell to the floor in a heap, groaning loudly as he hit the floor. Sylar turned to her with blazing eyes. "What the hell was that?" He hissed, stepping towards her and effectively backing her into the wall. "I'm not going to let you hurt him, or _anyone_." Her green eyes were alight with the same fire his was. She stepped forward and pushed him away from her, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back to him, staring into her eyes and making sure she got the message clearly.

"There's a reason you were scared of me, Claire. There's a reason your parents always taught you not to play with fire." His tone was serious, taunting, and scary but Claire refused to back down. She would never, ever back away from him, show him she was scared. Not anymore.

She pulled her hand away from him with a snarl. "I don't_ play_ with fire. I fight with it."

She turned away from him, and stomped towards the agent Sylar had just(accidentally) released. She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet, pushing him into a dusty old chair. "Who are you?" Claire asked evenly. The man didn't reply her and Claire slammed her foot down on the ground, making him flinch. "Agent Simmons." He choked out. "Agent Daniel Simmons." She threw Sylar a mocking look over her shoulder. _Ha ha, I got him to talk before you did._ Sylar just rolled his eyes at her, and walked closer until he was standing right behind her. "Who sent you?" Claire asked in the same emotionless tone. Agent Simmons just glared at her from his position on the chair. "The girl asked you a question." Sylar's menancing tone rang through the room. Claire cleared her throat. "Fine, the _woman_," Sylar corrected, rolling his eyes, "Asked you a question." The silence that followed made Claire want to scream. Sylar held up a hand and slammed the agent's head back into the wall. "Sylar, stop that!" He ignored her and repeated the motion. Blood spurted from Agent Simmons nose. Sylar's grin widened and he held up his hand to repeat the motion, but felt a hand holding him back. _Claire_. She was really starting to get on his nerves. Wasn't she supposed to be the hostage? He flicked his fingers and she was sent sprawling to the other side of the room. He held her there, and focused on the man in front of him. "Sylar, let me go!" The corners of his mouth quirked up as he watched her struggle against the telekenetic bonds out of the corner of his eye.

"Now,_ Agent Simmons_," He mocked, pulling out a chair. "Where is the man who lives in this house? Where's Mr. Gray?"

"I don't know." Agent Simmons gasped for air, wanting to cradle his probably broken nose, but unable to because of the telekinetic bonds that were holding him down.

Sylar concentrated, waiting for the telltale tingle, but there was none. "No lies. Next question. I walked into a trap. Who sent you?" Immediately, the man's eyes closed off and his mouth shut. It was obvious he had been well trained, Sylar was guessing Special Forces, Navy...

"A challenge? Fine, I like a challenge." Sylar could hear Claire's struggling grow wilder behind him, and he almost laughed. He raised his finger to the man's head, drawing a faint line over the man's forehead. Agent Simmons yelped in pain, and Claire 'attacked' him with curses and swears. The noise around him distracted him from noticing that another person had arrived. "Let them go, Sylar." A woman's voice called from behind him.

He heard Claire gasp behind him and he turned to face the uninvited stranger behind him. His grin came back in full force. "Ah, Meredith. How nice of you to join us." Meredith glared at him, the tips of her fingers turning red and small sparks flying from them. The two agents that were holding her flinched, and stepped away slightly. "Let Simmons go, and we'll give you the girl. We know she's that ones mother." One of them spoke up, voice shaking, as they nodded towards Claire."And if I don't?" Sylar ignored Claire's pleading eyes.

"We'll kill her and...and make you watch!" The agents were obviously younger and less trained than Simmons, that much was obvious. They obviously hadn't learnt yet that you never, _ever _threaten a serial killer. Mostly, because thery're mad and unpredictable. Sylar shrugged casually.

"Go right ahead. I might actually do it myself. I would just love to see how that little brain of hers works." He walked over to the immobile Claire, who glared up at his looming form, fire practically shooting from her gaze. "In fact, if it wasn't for her," He wrapped an arm around Claire's shoulder, leaning in close to her hair and taking a big whiff, then sighing in contentment. Ahh..._She smelled like strawberries._ He turned back to the two agents and a fuming Meredith. "I probably would have done it already." If the two agents weren't trembling in their boots already, they certainly were now.

Bravely, one of them stepped forward. "Look, we're not leaving here without Simmons." Sylar sneered at him in response.

"Now that's one thing you don't see everyday. Loyalty." He smirked and waved his hands and three more chairs were pulled out, Meredith and the two agents immediately falling into them. "I respect that."

* * *

Matt gasped as he stepped out his trance. He only remembered vaguely seeing the bright red of blood. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the nearest drawing.

The first one was someone who was quite obviously Noah Bennet talking to what looked like Molly's friend Micah, from Kirby Plaza in the middle of a fiery clearing. The second one was of Daphne. His breath caught in his throat. She was standing in front of a rock, blood spurting out of her. He sank into a chair. Their life together had barely even started yet. He swallowed. He had to save her.

He turned to the third drawing. It wasn't really much help. It was of a blond-haired girl kissing a dark-haired man that vaguely resembled Claire Bennet and Sylar in front of the 'Olympic Coffee Shop & Diner'. He couldn't really care less right now. The fourth drawing was...Horrific. There was so much blood, he could only make out the vague shapes of bodies among the crimson that covered the paper. The last one was him, slumped over on his table. Before he could react, he felt something sting his neck, and a jolt of pain. The world faded into black.

* * *

Micah hid behind one of the huge, black SUV's that crowded the small warehouse from where the plane was taking off from, clutching his laptop tightly to his chest. His mom would have totally yelled at him now. His lips lifted slightly when he thought about his mom. All his mom had ever wanted was for them to live a normal, happy life. He snorted. He didn't see that happening any time soon.

His dad would be proud of him, he knew. He had been helping re-unite families, helping Monica save people...Just this morning, he had helped Meredith Gordon find her daughter, Claire, another one of them. His dad would have been really proud of that.

He opened his computer, hoping this would work. He already knew which people would be on the flight. His Nana, Damon, Tracy Strauss, Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura, Matt Parkman, Sparrow Redhouse, Mohinder Suresh and about 12 more people. He was going to save them. _Him_.

He slid down to the floor, leaning against the black SUV. He had already planted a bug into the mainframe of the plane, so he knew exactly how to bring it down. He had already figured out a way to stop the amount of the flow of drugs that were being administered, so they would all be able to get out freely...If everything went according to plan.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Micah took a deep breath. They were exactly over the point where he wanted to bring down the plane. Somewhere near enough so that he could get there and make sure his family was okay, and somewhere big enough so that all the Specials could run without being pegged down immediately. He took a deep breath and hit the key.

_"There are things you wish for before big moments. I wish my friends were here. I wish my parents were different. I wish there was someone who got what was happening, and could just look at me and tell me we weren't crazy, that we weren't being stupid. Someone to say "I'm proud of you, and I got your back… no matter what." - Haley Graham"_

Monica used to show him that quote all the time, to remind him that no matter what; she was always going to be there for him. Forever. He had to save her. He _had_ to. Beeping from his computer jerked him out of his thoughts. "Oh shit!" He cursed, and tried to configure the landing for the plane. Something had went wrong...Only he had no idea what. The plane was supposed to be able to land properly, but the status said one of the engines had broken off, or something like that...How did an engine break off?

Exactly 3 miles away, Peter figured out what Tracy's power was.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Micah's lungs were burning, but he didn't stop running. He could see the flames from here...Shit! This was worse than he anticipated. He was almost at the crash sight...

"Stop right there." A familiar voice called from behind him. He heard the sound of a gun cocking and he froze. "Turn around." The voice commanded. Slowly, Micah turned. He knew this guy.

"You're Claire's adoptive father..." He breathed, remembering Claire's case file from this morning. His face turned from one of surprise to anger. "And you're still doing this? You're turning your back on your own daughter!" Accusation and disgust dripped from Micah's tone, and Noah can't help but cringe. They don't understand; he isn't turning his back on Claire; he's _ensuring_ her safety. They can work on stopping Nathan later. And if that means he has to live in a morally grey world for a while, he doesn't care.

"I would never do that to Claire." His voice is slow and calm. Micah's about to retort when Noah lowers the gun. Micah stared at him, brown eyes wide.

"You're letting me go?" He gasped.

Noah just glances around them, checking to see if anyone's noticed them yet. "Just remember; when you play with fire, you might get burnt." He could have imagined it, but a small smile settled over Noah's face. "I used to tell my daughter that all the time." Micah can only nod, unable to believe his luck.

"Now, run!" When Micah doesn't move, Noah shouts again. "Run!" Micah took off, running through the trees and only looking back once. Noah is still standing there, staring after him with a semi-proud expression. For the first time since he found out about Building 26, Micah smiles. Now both of them are heroes.

* * *

**Hey there! Sorry this took a little longer than usual, it's just that there were so many puzzle pieces to put together and I was really afraid of making a mistake, so here it is...*trumpets* Chapter 3! Feeling very proud right now:) **

**As I have said before, please do check out Purple Lex, julyisfree, cerberus angel, PensAreAwesome and Anei, because they are amazing and I can't get enough of their stories:) Did I mention how amazing they are?**

**Oh, and if you could leave a review, that'd be great...Thanks!;)**


	4. Trust And Blood: Part 1

**Trust And Blood, 3x15**

* * *

_In Washington, Building 26..._

Nathan paced around his office, rubbing his head. How the hell had things spun so out of control? It was just supposed to be a simple transfer! A damn plane crash? Nothing in his life was_ ever_ simple was it?

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He dialled Angela's number. The need to vent was too much to handle. He would just go mad if he didn't talk to somebody now. He sighed in relief when his mother answered.

"Did I wake you?" He asked, tapping his fingers on the desk nervously.

"I've been expecting your call." His mother's crisp tone came over the line, devoid of any sort of i-just-woke-up fog. "Have you managed to detain all the escapees?" He didn't even bother to ask how she even knew there were any escapees. He was used to her psychicness by now.

"No, not yet." Nathan replied, glancing out the window at the busy, wet streets of Washington. All the people down there looked relaxed. Carefree. It was true; ignorance is bliss.

"How does the damage look like?" Angela asked, business-like as ever. "Well, it's not good. Someone messed with the plane's main computer and all hell broke loose."

"Are there any casualties?"

Nathan sighed. "No, Noah and the pilot managed an emergency landing." He rubbed his forehead, breathing hard. He could already feel the frown lines forming. "The plane broke apart when it hit the ground." He heard silence on the other end. He could already hear the unspoken question. _Is Peter okay? _Trying to take his mind off the seriousness of the situation, he kept talking. "Some of the prisoners escaped." He babbled, even though he knew that this was not news to Angela. All he heard was silence on the other end for a few minutes and he was almost about to hang up when Angela spoke.

"Well dear," She sighed in a tone that could almost be described as motherly, "There's only two things that can come out of situations like this. Trust and blood." She paused before continuing. "The thing is, Nathan," She asked, her words laced with something close to malice, but not quite. "who's trust are you going to earn, and who's blood is it going to be? And is it worth it?" Nathan didn't answer her, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer or not.

* * *

_43 hours earlier..._

_Somewhere in Arkansas, Russellville_

Hiro's lungs were burning, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He could hear those scary-ninja American soldier people behind him, and he could feel the fear coursing through his veins, keeping his legs moving. He really missed his power, he decided. He wouldn't even have to run if he had it. He heard some of the guards shouting and it heightened his panic. He somehow made his legs move faster, trying to gain as much distance from the crash site as possible. In his hurry, however, he forgot to look where he was going. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the ground under his feet. He fell forwards, landing in the rough, sandy ground. He moaned softly into the ground. Ow.

Before he could make a move to get up though, he felt two pairs of hands drag him to his feet and away from where he had landed. He was about to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth, making it impossible for him to do so. He glanced to capturers and sighed in relief. It was not one of the stormtroopers, it was only Matt Parkman and Dr. Suresh. He closed his eyes and sighed. Thank God.

They pulled him backwards against the wall, making sure to keep out of sight of the stormtrooper that was shining his torch on the exact place where Hiro had fallen. As soon as they were sure the stormtrooper was gone, Matt immediately turned to Hiro.

"Hiro, what are you doing here?" He asked while looking around for anymore of the guards. "Did you get your powers back?" He asked hopefully. It would certainly be very useful right now. To his disappointment, Hiro shook his head dejectedly. "No, I'm powerless. The hero's path is never easy." Both Suresh and Parkman mentally rolled their eyes. Most of the time, Hiro's blind optimism was humorous, but neither of them felt like laughing right then.

Mohinder scanned the clearing. "If we stay here, we're dead. We have to keep moving!" He shouted, barely able to be heard over the sound of the chopper that was headed their way. Hiro was quick to agree with him. "Yes, save the others!" He conceded as they edged sideways, carefully keeping out of sight.

"Where are they?" Mohinder called back, running for cover as the helicopter shone a huge beam of light in their direction.

"I saw them running. Peter Petrelli and some others." He panted, following Mohinder. "It is our duty to save them-"

He was cut off by Matt. "Don't you get it? Powers alone aren't going to cut it with these guys. They were ready for us. All of us!" The thought scared Hiro to no end. _He_ hadn't been ready for his own powers, so how could anyone else be?

"Then what do we do?" He asked desperately. No one replied.

"The sun will be up soon. There's more trees and cover that way, come on." Mohinder finally said, making a break for it. When he looked behind him, however, Matt wasn't following him. "Matt!" He hissed, running towards his former roommate. "Matt! Where are you going?" He tugged on Matt's sleeve, turning Matt to face him. He gasped when he saw Matt's eyes. They were white, glazed over and though they were open, he didn't seem to see neither him nor Hiro. _What in the world? _Matt tilted his head in the opposite direction of where Mohinder had been going, and strode boldly forward, not even bothering to check to see if anyone had seen them. Mohinder turned to Hiro, who merely shrugged and followed Matt. Mohinder shook his head before running after them. Matt seemed to know what he was doing after all.

* * *

Peter ran forward, glancing behind him nervously. He couldn't believe Nathan was doing all this. I mean, he could, he just didn't want to. It made him so...Angry, and yet it made sense. Claire's sudden 'disappearance' made sense too. She must have been the first one Nathan took. Red tainted his vision. He ran faster. "Don't move." A familiar voice called from behind him. "Noah." Peter let out a bitter chuckle. "Of course. I should've known you'd be involved in something like this. You're the original company man, aren't you?" Peter turned around to face Noah, hands in the air. Noah didn't say anything, just used his gun to motion for Peter to get on the ground. Peter refused to move. "How can you do this? What about Claire? What does she think about all this?" Peter yelled, fighting to be heard against the sound of shouts and gunshots.

Noah didn't answer, but froze momentarily at the sound of Claire's name. Taking advantage of Noah's momentary mistake, he lunged forward, twisting the gun out of Noah's hands. Before Noah could react, Peter had pushed him to the floor and had the gun trained on him. _Wow_, Peter marvelled. He couldn't imagine many people had managed to get the drop on Noah Bennet. Ever.

Peter kept his gun trained on Noah as he walked backwards, eyes never leaving the company man. "Just so we're clear," Peter snarled as he walked away, "The only reason I'm not putting a bullet in you're brain right now, is because of Claire. She loves you." Peter's eyes softened for a second "Just don't let her down more than you and Nathan already have by doing this." Then the softness was gone, and Peter turned and ran, disappearing into the woods.

As he watched Peter's shadowy silhouette disappear into the trees, something that looked very much like a meteorite crashed into the ground in front of him. He managed a grim smile as the air strike commenced, watching as the bright orange flames billowed and rose into the air. Another 'meteorite' hit the ground, sending debris in every direction. Much like Noah's world. Grey area's were overrated, he decided as he stared on at the flaming wreckage.

* * *

_In Newark, New Jersey..._

Sylar's gaze locked in on Agent Simmons. He wished he had been able to get that persuasion girl's power. It would have really come in handy right about now. They had been sitting in his father's deserted home for around 43 hours now. The other two soldiers had passed out from blood loss, exhaustion or just plain fear without giving him any useful information about why they had attacked him and Claire, or where his father was. And to make matters worse, Claire hadn't stopped cursing at him and screaming at him the entire time he had been torturing them. She was giving him a headache. And Meredith...She just bored holes into him with her eyes. All in all, his day was not going very well.

"Are you going to tell me what you know?" Agent Simmons stared at him for a second, then spat at him. He heard Claire freeze behind him. He could practically smell the fear radiating off of her, the dread of his response. He smirked and leaned back, dragging his sleeve across his face and wiping the spit away slowly.

"Hmm, stubborn, aren't we?" He spat, flinging his arm down in a quick, solid movement. Both Claire and Agent Simmons flinched, and he hadn't actually done anything yet. Meredith just sat there in stony silence, trying to glare him down.

"Don't hurt him." Claire whispered into the silence of the room. Sylar spun around to face her. He mock gasped in horror.

"Oh no, I won't hurt him." He sneered. "I won't hurt the guy who just shot us up with tranqs and tried to capture us. Why would I possibly do that?" She growled at him, and a small smile blossomed on his face. It seemed that the cheerleader had grown claws."Just don't, okay? Please." Claire pleaded, green eyes earnest in the little light of the room.

He stared at her and leaned back against the wall. She would always be a puzzle, an unsolvable one for him. The guy had just attacked them, and she was begging him not to hurt the guy. He ran a hand through his hair. They should really stop her from hanging around Peter so much.

"Fine. I won't hurt_ him_." Claire didn't like the way he had said that. "Really?" Claire asked, eyebrows raised.

Sylar smirked, and leaned over her chair. "No, Claire. I won't hurt_ him_. Just someone else." He grinned and nodded towards the house opposite. The feeling of dread returned with full force. "Or anyone else." She added half-heartedly to her first plea, knowing full well it was no use.

He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows in mock fury. "Now, Claire, that wasn't the deal." He waved his arm and both Meredith and Agent Simmons were knocked out instantly. She glowered at him. "You are _such_ a big _bastard_." Chuckling bitterly, he raised his arm. "I know." He replied simply, before waving his arm again. Claire felt a slight touch to the side of her head(no pain, remember?), and felt the world go hazy, before completely fading into darkness. Again.

* * *

_Back in Japan..._

Ando sighed and set his chopsticks back down on the black plastic bowl. "I need a ticket to Arkansas, Russellville." He explained for the third time in Japanese. "What do you mean you never heard of it?" He was really starting to lose his patience. He needed to find Hiro _now_. "Arkansas!Clinton..." He heard the dial tone. "Hello?" Ando sighed as he returned to eating his bowl of noodles. He'd try again later. Just as the phone hit the table, a strange and harsh wind blew, sending papers flying. It reminded him of someone...Nemesis.

He turned and there she was, right beside him. He gritted his teeth, frustrated. What was she doing here? How had she found him? Never mind. "Nemesis?"

"It's me." Daphne replied, trying for a smile but failing miserably. She couldn't help it; she was just so worried about Matt and...

"How did you find me?" Ando asked, interrupting her flow of increasingly darker thoughts.

"Hiro told me about your 'super-secret' hide-out." Daphne rolled her eyes, remembering Hiro's almost child-like excitement when he had told her about his and Ando's new 'batcave'.

Ando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Of course. Best way to keep a secret, tell everyone." He finally noticed the worry, the _fear_ that was etched across her face. "Is something wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, she finally blurted it out. "It's Matt. He didn't some home last night. He didn't call." Looking almost wistful, she whispered, more to herself than to Ando, "He always calls."

It was then that Ando saw the faint reddishness around her eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them. Mistaking his pro-longed gaze for confusion, Daphne rolled her eyes and elaborated on her reason for being there. "I didn't know who else to turn to." She admitted, gaze falling downward. Ando frowned for a second, connecting all the dots.

"Wait, Hiro's missing also. He's kidnapped. Maybe the same thing happened with Matt."

Daphne's eyes widened. "I've got to find him." She breathed.

"I think he was taken to Arkansas." Ando supplied, remembering the phone call he had been on before Daphne/Nemesis had arrived.

"How do you know that?" Daphne asked, brown eyes narrowed.

"Because both Hiro and I have GPS trackers." The corners of Daphne's mouth lifted into a sardonic smile. "Of course you do."

Ando pointedly ignored her jab. "He's somewhere near Russellville, Arkansas. I was trying to buy a ticket to fly there."

Dahne paused for a minute, processing this information. "Why fly when you can run?" She grabbed the edge of his shirt, every intention to make a run for it(pun intended), when she remembered something.

"Wait, I have to show you something." She reached into her bag and pulled out the drawings she had found on Matt's desk yesterday. "I think Matt drew these." She said quietly, handing them over to Ando. "I think they're supposed to happen." Silently, Ando reviewed the drawings. The first one was really weird. It was the cheerleader kissing the brain man. The next one...He wasn't sure exactly what it was, it was just red with...Oh. They were bodies, covered in blood. He cringed. The third was a man with big glasses talking to a young boy, fire surrounding them. He saw the last picture and inhaled sharply. The woman in the drawing was unmistakably Daphne. She was wearing the exact same clothes, had the same white-blond cropped hair. In the picture, Daphne had two bullet holes with blood spurting out of them, right below her shoulder. She wore an expression of such agony that he winced.

"Do you still want to go?" He asked quietly. Without hesitation, Daphne nodded.

"Why?" He asked in the same quiet, serious voice. "I mean, knowing what you know...That you could possibly not come back from this, why?"

Daphne fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his intense gaze. "Because..." She took a deep breath. "That's what a hero does. They put their life on the line to save the people...The people they..." She whispered her next words so softly he almost didn't hear her. "Care about." She brushed a stray tear away from her face. "Besides," She continued, smiling sadly. "Matt did the same for me."

Ando stared at her for a second, before reaching out a giving her a big hug. Daphne stiffened in surprise before relaxing and returning the hug with a light squeeze. Daphne pulled away before putting her hands lightly over Ando's. "Just tell Matt for me, okay? Tell him that I cared about him, just in case I don't get to." Ando squeezed her hand lightly and said in the most mature voice Daphne had ever heard Ando or Hiro use, "I'll do everything in my power to make sure you do." Daphne gave him a small, sad smile. "Thank you." She whispered.

"私は非常にお会いできて光栄に思っていた." He said in Japanese before repeating in English. "I was very honoured to meet you."

"私も(me too)." She replied in Japanese. Ando's brow furrowed. "Wait, you know Japanese?"

She shrugged. "Only very little. I learnt a little after I met you and Hiro. I just wanted to make sure you weren't talking bad about me behind my back." She hopped up from the chair. "Come on." She tapped her foot impatiently, all emotional vulnerability gone from her face. "We're wasting time." Without hesitation, Ando grabbed her hand. The two of them became a blur as Daphne's feet began to move.

* * *

_In Newark..._

Luke stepped out of the car, watching curiously as yet another squad car pulled up outside Samson Gray's old house. He snorted. It's not like there was anybody in there. There hadn't been for months. And as far as he remembered, there hadn't been anything except creepy, stuffed, dead animals and dust in his house. He doubted many people wanted to steal that. Before he could finish this thought, his mom began to speak. He rolled his eyes as she launched into another speech. "Taxidermy. Never really liked that old man." She muttered. Luke rolled his eyes. His mom had always had a thing about Mr. Gray. She always went on and on about how she got a bad vibe off of him, or some other crap like that. _Moms_, he thought to himself as he grabbed the groceries from the back of the car. He ignored her and focused intently on Mr. Gray's house. Hmm...He wondered what was going on that they needed an ambulance there. "That's right." His mother's voice drifted back into his conciousness. "Take a good look. Because that's your future if you keep getting into fights at school." Luke felt like throwing the groceries at his mom. He had apologised; maybe a hundred times for yesterday. "Just hope a night in juvie taught you something."

"Yup, the foods great." He shot back, keeping his eyes focused on the pavement. Mary stopped short behind her son, wincing slightly. "Don't push it Luke." Mary warned, pushing her way past him and through the door. "Not after yesterday." Luke bit his lip to keep from retorting. Blessed silence fell for a few seconds before Mary finally burst out. _3,2,1..._Luke counted in his head.

"Just tell me, why did you have to hit that kid?" _And there it is. _Luke shrugged. _Because he called me a freakshow. And maybe he wasn't wrong._

Mary imitated the shrug, putting on her best;_ 'you're not fooling me'_ face. "What does that mean?" She asked as Luke heaved a big sigh. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She muttered, fumbling for her keys. Finally having found them, she turned to face him. "A shrug. Is that your answer for everything?" She obviously wasn't going to leave it alone till he gave her an answer. He put on his best, 'fine, I'll tell you face' and said in the sincerest voice he could muster, "He called you a whore." Mary paused, and gave him a long hard look before rolling her eyes and opening the door. "Get inside."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Mary should've known something was wrong since the minute she stepped foot in the house. The TV was on, and she could've _sworn_ she'd turned it off before going to pick Luke up from juvie, the chair's were all out of place and...There were three people sitting in front of the TV. She'd heard cases of this kind of thing before. "Call the police," She whispered to Luke, and she couldn't help the slight shake in her voice. She moved toward the fireplace, quietly and quickly, then grabbing a firepoker, she rounded on the 'intruders'. She almost dropped the firepoker when she saw who the 'intruders' were.

The first one was a blond-haired teenage girl, who looked utterly exhausted. The second one was an older woman who resembled the girl slightly, who's forehead was bruised slightly and unconcious. And the third one was...She gasped when she saw his condition. There were screwdrivers sticking out of his palms, and his face was bruised and bloody. And all three of them had their mouths duct taped shut and their wrists bound to the chairs. "What the hell..." She breathed.

The older woman and the man were still unconcious, but the younger one seemed to be trying to tell her something. She was straining against her binded hands, eyes wide with terror as she looked to the area behind Mary. Luke gasped as the phone he'd been using to call the police flew out of his hand and was smashed into smithereens against the wall. Mary spun around just in time to see a dark haired man emerge from the room behind her. "You're either Mary Campbell, or the current occupant." He held up a letter accusingly, grinning widely in a way that just seemed to scream; _danger!_

She held up the firepoker; poised to attack, but it flew out of her hands, joining the phone on the floor. The man smirked and moved his hand towards her and she gasped as something unnatural pushed her forcefully back into a chair. As she looked over at Luke, she saw the same thing had happened to him as well. _What in hell's name was going on?_ She felt the fear build up in her stomache. She hadn't felt this scared since she found out she was pregnant with Luke, or since her ex had come home drunk with a baseball bat. Those had been the two worse days in her life...But, she had a feeling today was going to top both of those.

"We've been waiting for you." The man continued in a voice that sounded just as dangerous as his smile looked. Mary couldn't keep control of her voice anymore and questions flew out of her mouth before she could think of them.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" She asked, her question coming out as more of a shriek.

He chose not to answer her question, choosing instead to make his way over to the bloodied, bruised man and yanking off the duct tape that covered his mouth. Mary watched in horror as the man woke, gasping for breath and spitting out little droplets of blood. "Agent Simmons says hello." The man continued, smiling as the man came to. "His people trained him very well. He barely flinched when he lost a finger or two." Mary watched as the girl struggled with her bindings, glaring up at the raven haired man with hate burning in her eyes.

"The trouble is, he's got information that I need. So you," He glanced at Mary and Luke with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Are going to help me loosen his tongue."

The agent didn't look scared at all at this statement, more angry than anything. "Sick freak. You're going to torture me in front of them?" He spat, fire burning in his eyes.

"No." Sylar leaned down, until he was looking Agent Simmons right in the eye. "I'm going to torture them," He glanced at Mary and Luke, grinning. "In front of you." The glint in his eyes promised to follow through.

* * *

_Somewhere in Arkansas, Russellville..._

"Why the hell did you authorise an air strike?" Nathan yelled, over the noise of the helicopters. He looked over the still-burning piece of land, before turning back to face the current bane of his existence. He was really starting to regret hiring this 'Hunter' guy.

"It's standing protocol, Senator. I don't need your pemission." He turned away from Nathan, beginning to walk away. Nathan followed him, incredulous at his behaviour.

"Permission?" He yelled. "It's my operation!" This seemed to amuse Danko. "Not out here it isn't." He replied cooly as he walked to their control tent. "I've got civillians at risk. The second that crash happened, your prisoners were re-designated terrorists."

Nathan struggled to keep up with Danko's brisk walk. "You mean targets, right? Shoot to kill, that's your tactical, elegant solution?"

Danko stopped short and turned to face Nathan. "These people of yours are dangerous." Nathan shook his head.

"These people are going into custody. We're not assasins." Nathan argued.

Danko's eyes glittered dangerously. "You have a rabid dog, you don't put a chain around it's neck and pray for miracles. You put it down." Nathan sighed.

"I guess it's good we don't have a rabid dog, then." Nathan finally replied, voice low and commanding. "Do we?" The challenge in Nathan's eyes was clear.

Danko just rolled his eyes and turned away.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Peter ran as fast as he could, looking back over his shoulder every now and then. He had to fine Parkman. Or Mohinder. Or someone. Anyone, really, who'd be willing to fight this with him. His eyes darkened. This was war.

"Peter?" He heard someone call from behind him. He skidded to a stop, and turned, only to find Tracy sitting on the dried, rocky forest floor.

He ran over, extending a hand to her. "Tracy, come on. We have to keep moving..." She cut him off. "I can't do this." Peter's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" He got on his knees, still glancing around furtively.

"I'm not some 'thing'." She moved her hands around her vividly, and Peter felt a surge of annoyance shoot through him. They didn't have time for this right now! "My life was finally getting back to normal." Peter cut her off immeditaely. "Okay, just stop. If you stay here, they will catch you." He got to his feet, extending a hand to her. "Now come on."

He turned but Tracy pulled him back. "Why? Why would Nathan do this to us?"

Peter shook his head. He'd stopped asking questions like that years ago. "I don't know. But we're going to find a way to stop him."

Tracy shook her head, panicking. "This is a nightmare," she muttered running a hand through her hair. Peter took a hold of her shoulders, shaking her gently. "You stay here, and he wins. You come with me and you can fight."

Tracy considered her options carefully. Neither of them sounded very appealing, to say the least. But she might be able to manipulate Nathan into letting her go if she stayed with Peter... So she put on her best, 'I'm scared' face and let Peter pull her through the forest. This _was_ war after all.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Maybe these people can help us." Hiro whispered, crouching behind the rusty old truck. Mohinder gave him a slight nod, but Matt didn't respond at all. His eyes were still that scary shade of white, still glossed over and unseeing, and Mohinder was starting to get slightly worried. Before either of them could move, Matt got to his feet and moved toward the medium-sized trailer in front of them.

Matt moved toward Usutu, who, in his mind, was standing at the door of the trailer. He couldn't focus on anything else; something was begging him, _calling_ him to move towards Usutu. He followed Usutu, inside the trailer, absentmindedly breaking open the door and not hesitating to climb into the trailer. Mohinder and Hiro followed him warily. "What is he doing?" Hiro whispered to Mohinder, eyes wide. "We're not thieves."

Mohinder sighed and tried to explain to Hiro what he understood, which was...Less than he'd like it to be. "The trance is compelling him. Let's just," He took a deep breath, "..Let him go."

Mohinder made a move towards the door, but before he could even touch it, it burst open, sending Mohinder jumping backwards with a start. In his hands, Matt was holding paper, and a box of markers. Opening the box with terrifying speed, Matt began to draw. Mohinder and Hiro peered over his shoulder nervously, unsure what to do and getting more nervous by the second.

"What should we do?" Hiro whispered to Mohinder, glancing nervously around the woods for any sign of the stormtroopers. Mohinder sighed, running his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. Then he spotted clothes. Real, not orange and waterproof clothes. "Come here." He motioned for Hiro to follow him, making a break for the clothes that were hanging out to dry.

Meanwhile, Matt's fingers were struggling to keep up with the images that were flying through his mind. It was so vivid, so real, that he couldn't be sure what was real and what wasn't. The only thing that seemed real in his mind was Usutu. "Focus, Parkman." Usutu ordered, directing his gaze back to the pen and paper in front of him.

"We need to blend in. Put these on." Mohinder tossed some jeans at Hiro. Hiro seemed to fight with his consience for a while, before finally grabbing the clothes from the rack. "I will take their address, send money later." Hiro announced decisively. Mohinder rolled his eyes as he pulled on a shirt, but couldn't help the smile that teased his lips. Hiro would forever be Hiro.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Tracy watched as the soldier made his way carefully through the woods, mentally running over in her mind what Peter had told her to do. She was in this together with him...For now. She waited until he saw the unconcious soldier that she and Peter had laid carefully in position, and waited for him to run over to him before shaking the branches of the tree she was hiding behind violently, and making a run for it in the opposite direction. Peter would take care of the rest.

She felt the adrenaline in her bloodstream rocket up as she felt the man turn towards her, cocking his gun. She ran faster, moving back and forth between the trees. She heard a grunt and a thud, and turned to look behind her. She smiled when she saw Peter standing over the soldier. Success.

She ran back towards him, dropping to her knees beside him. "Thanks." She murmured, breathless. Peter didn't acknowledge her; he was too busy...She had no idea what he was doing. "What are you doing?" She asked as Peter rolled the guard over and removed his bulletproof vest.

"I'm going back. Find Nathan." Peter said, not looking at her. She didn't get him. He had refused to look at her since he convinced her to stay, and when he did, she always detected something that felt very much like scorn to her, buried deep in his eyes.

"What is your problem with me?" She asked, toying with her fingernails. Peter stopped short, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?" He asked, returning to his task.

"Since you're going off to get yourself killed, I thought I might as well ask you now." She stood up, putting her hands on her hips. Peter stood as well, eyes cold and distant. The chill in the air was obvious now. "Fine." Peter said after what seemed like a million years. "You're a manipulator. A user, just like Nathan. I tend not to like people like that." He turned away from her and continued removing the soldiers uniform.

"Fine, you don't like me, I get that. But how do you even know Nathan's here?" Tracy asked, dropping to her knees. Peter glanced at her briefly, re-assembling the soldier's gun and cocking it. "Nathan's here. He's probably sweating bullets." Peter smiled at the thought. "Trying not to show it. This whole program was his idea. It means that his ass is on the line. He's here." He finished.

Tracy was fiddling with the second soldier's phone. She briefly glanced up at him. "You go back, they'll kill you."

"You have a better idea?" This Peter wanted to hear.

"Maybe." She ignored Peter's condescending tone. She held up the phone. "I know Nathan too, and not like a brother. I know the way he thinks."

Peter snorted. "That's 'cause you slept with him." Tracy showed no shame, only grinning. "Yeah, that...And I think the same way."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Daphne loved this feeling. The feeling of the wind rushing through her hair, the different landscapes that rushed by...This was what she wanted to be doing. Every single day. She jerked to a stop when she saw where they were. This was the place...The place where she...She turned to look at the fallen plane. She couldn't see Matt or Hiro, but that didn't mean they weren't here. What she did see was soldiers. Men in black. With guns. She gulped and crouched down beside the broken, damaged plane, beckoning for Ando to do the same.

"Soldiers." Ando breathed, echoing her thoughts. "What's going on?" He wondered aloud.

Daphne was wondering the same thing. It couldn't be just a coincidence that Matt and Hiro had been taken the same time, right? The question was, who was pulling the strings...The only person she knew of that had a beef against both Hiro and Matt was Arthur Petrelli...And he was dead...Wasn't he? She gulped at the thought of her personal nightmare man still being alive. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She didn't want to think of that now; she would not think of that scum-sucking lowlife at possibly her last moments on earth.

"I have no idea." She finally said, breaking the silence that had settled between her and Ando. Truer words had never been spoken.

* * *

_Back in Newark..._

Claire could feel her wrists going numb as she struggled against the bindings. She could already see the bright red lines that were forming against her wrists, but she didn't care. She could feel the rage burning through her. He really was a selfish bastard. She had wanted to find her real parents too. She hadn't gone around torturing innocent people, now had she? She was going to teach him a lesson. Not everything was about _him_.

She glanced at the exhausted man beside her. And who wouldn't be exhausted in his position? He had been tortured for hours, by_ Sylar_, and he still had refused to give out any information. They should give him an award, she thought to herself. She glared as Sylar sauntered back into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He winked as he walked by her. Asshole. And to think she was actually beginning to feel sorry for him...Her temper boiled as she remembered his tortured eyes. Probably all some sick joke just to make her feel something for him...Even as she thought this, she knew it wasn't true, but she was just to angry to care.

"Agent Simmons..." Sylar waved the cup of coffee under the worn out agent's nose. The agent stirred but didn't wake. "..seems faitgued." He mused to Mary. Growing impatient, Sylar knocked on one of the screwdrivers that had been embedded deep into the agent's hands. He watched in amusement as Claire flinched. Agent Simmons cried out with each time he knocked. "You _really_ need to pay attention." He singsonged, pressing hard on the screwdriver before stepping away, chuckling slightly as Agent Simmons came to. "You're father's in custody," He choked out, "You sick piece of crap."

Sylar's world shook and he snorted. "Another lie. Well, it's time to get started. Where to begin?" He pulled out a chair, trailing his finger upwards and pointing it at Luke. Claire let out a high pitched squeal as he did so, and all parties turned to look at her. "Claire, I know you're excited, but you'll just have to contain yourself." He drawled, smirking at her. She hated him. She hated him so damn much... Claire pulled harder on her bindings. There was no way in _hell _that she was going to let him do this. She could feel them loosening, if she could just...

He trailed his finger upwards, pointing it at Luke. He felt the boy shivering in his chair. He always got a high on the fear that came off of his victims. He twirled his finger in the other direction, resting it on Mary. "Mommy." He sat himself down in the chair, leaning back and taking a sip out of the mug. _Ahhh..._ Mary stared at him in a mixture of disgust, fear and well, _fear_. "Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you?" She asked, begging for an answer as to why her perfectly ordinary, un-glamorous life had been interrupted.

Sylar took another sip of coffee, watching her carefully as he did so. "Nothing." He answered, shaking his head. "Wrong place, wrong time. I could have been a flood or a tornado." He shrugged. "There's really no difference, actually. How about you, Luke, any thought?" He called, glancing over at Luke. Luke merely gulped, keeping his mouth shut. Sylar grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I sense some..." He fumbled for thr right word. ".._dysfunction_ in the Campbell household." Luke struggled to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to fry this guy into oblivion. Who the hell did he think he was? His mom chimed in, almost echoing what he had been going to say. "You bastard, you better leave him-" She felt something take control of her mouth, clamming it shut. Sylar smiled as he tightened his hold on her windpipe. She couldn't breathe, why couldn't she breathe?

"But I understand." He continued, like she'd never spoken. "Single mom, troubled teenage son, and judging from the pathetic alimoney check I found, I'd say Dad took off quite some time ago." He tightened his hold on her with each word. Mary was battling for air now, fighting against Sylar's hold on her, but it was no use. Her eyes widened and she turned to look at Luke, pleading with him to do something, _anything_.

"What are you doing to her?" Luke whispered, quaking with fear.

"Only what you wished you could have done years ago." Sylar's voice was lower and laced with malice. Claire could practically feel the anger coursing through him. This wasn't about them, this was about_ him_.

"No, no, stop..." Luke pleaded weakly, but it sounded pathetic and false, even to his own ears. He wasn't lying though; not completely. No matter how much he and his mom fought... No. He wouldn't wish her dead.

"You're lying." Sylar said and Luke's eyebrows flew up. He wasn't! Sylar turned to Agent Simmons. "Agent Simmons, Mary is losing her patience. Isn't it your job to protect her from monster's like me?" Sylar pushed harder against Mary's windpipe. "He's not going to talk; let her go!" Luke pleaded, louder this time. Sylar's gaze flickered back to him, his generous brow quirking. "You say that 'cause you care, kid?" Sylar mocked, "Or is it just a pre-condtioned response 'cause mommy drew the short straw?" He turned back to Mary, pushing his telekinetic fingers harder around her neck. She rasped, trying to breathe. Strangled noises came from her throat and Luke began to panic. Claire pulled harder on her bindings, desperation clawing at her chest. She could swear they were looser now...Then Luke spoke.

"What do you know about me?" Luke asked, challenging Sylar with his cool gaze. Sylar studied him carefully. He hadn't thought the boy had it in him. Sylar smiled, taking a huge slurp of his coffee. "Mum's a drone, and Dad abandoned you. I know that rage, Luke. And I know that deep down, you'd like nothing more than to see her blood all over the living room floor." A muffled sound came from Claire, and both Luke and Sylar turned toward her. Her eyes were fixed on Sylar's, spitting fire at him. Sylar couldn't really hear what she was saying because of the duct tape, but it sounded like, "Get over yourself, asshole". He just grinned at her, before turning back to Luke. Mary's face had turned a pale, pale white and anyone could see that she was struggling to keep a hold on her conciousness.

Luke struggled with the telekenetic bonds that were holding him down. There was obviously no reasoning with this guy, he was bat-ass crazy. He would just have to _show_ him how to back off. He forced his hand upwards, aiming it at Sylar's coffee mug. "Go to hell..." He grunted, as the mug shattered and the coffee exploded upwards. Okay, Sylar had to admit. He had not seen that one coming. Mary gasped for breath, his hold on her having been released. She glanced over at Luke, and Luke felt it. He felt the horror in her gaze, the _judgement_. This was exactly why he never told anybody."Well, well." A dark, dangerous smile bloomed on Sylar's face. "It's a small world." _Oh crap_, Claire thought to herself. This could not be good.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Luke didn't even know why this guy was doing this. Why he didn't just kill him like he'd expected the guy to. He stared disbelievingly at the man as he placed one of Luke's old toy figurines on the table in front of him. "Show me." He commanded, his dark brown eyes daring Luke to contradict him.

Luke sighed, glancing at the purple figurine. Extending his hand out towards it, he glanced at Mary. She was staring at him anxiously, holding her breath. He wondered what her reaction would have been like without all this. He snorted. She'd probably have packed him away to some mental institution. Anger coursed through him and he felt waves of heat being emitted from his hands; the figurine was reduced to a puddle of goo. He glanced over at Mary again. The expression of horror was obvious now, nothing she tried to cover it up with later could deny that...But what Luke hated most was the fear. As if having this..._Thing, _made him a monster. It wasn't like he'd asked for it!

Turning to Sylar, he gave a small shrug. "Some stuff melts, some burns. Water boils." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "Kinda like a microwave."

Sylar nodded, eyes never leaving the melted figurine. He felt it. The need to understand, the need to _take_, burning at the back of his mind. However, it was somewhat supressed. Lowered, somehow. Manageable. And for some reason, he really didn't want to kill this kid. He reminded him, somewhat...Of himself. Different, _special_ and yearning to be accepted by anyone and everyone. Thank god he had gotten over that stage. Well...Mostly anyhow.

"That's very impressive." He finally said.

"You should see what happens around pacemakers." A small, almost sadistic and most definitively evil grin settled on Luke's face.

Sylar's forehead wrinkled then smoothened. Not exactly the kind of thing he was into, but from one psychopath to another...It was a start. He gave a small sound of amusement.

Claire listened to the conversation carefully. This was going almost...Well. Luke's scalp was still in tact, so she was taking that as a positive side. She glanced over at Meredith. She was still out. Damn. If she could just burn through Claire's ropes, she could...She wasn't actually sure _what_ she could do, but she could at least _try_ to help these people. Beside her, Agent Simmons shifted in his seat, tugging at his hands and wincing as he tried to pull them out of the chair. Claire's mouth fell open. She almost couldn't remember what it felt like to feel pain anymore, but she was pretty sure tugging your screwdrived-into-a-chair-hand _out_ of the chair, yeah, that was going to be painful.

Sylar's voice drifted back into her thoughts. "You know I heard you at the door." He was saying. "That kid you hit at school, he didn't call your mother a whore; you lied. You do that alot." Surprise and shock ran through her brain as she heard him say this. Did he actually _care_ about this kid? That was so...Un-Sylar-like and more human; to empathise with someone.

Luke gave another disheartened shrug. "Why do you care?" He asked quietly.

"Because you live half a block down from my father, and if that's a coincidence, God's improved his sense of humor." Sylar leaned back against the wall behind him, studying Luke carefully as if he was a piece of fascinating machinery. One of Claire's binding popped loose and she carefully removed the duct tape from her mouth. _Ahhh...That was so much better._

"You're wrong." Luke was quick to contradict him. "I'm no one." He hesitantly met Sylar's eyes. Sylar just stared at him, expression somewhere in between curiousity and disbelief.

"I'm not." He continued. "I don't have any friends." He sighed. "Shoplift stuff I don't even want. Sell my Ritalin to meth mouths at school." Sylar's world shook a second time, and he stepped closer to Luke, staring at him curiously. Why was he so determined to make himself out like a bad kid?

"Luke, stop!" Mary cried from her seat, obviously not wanting to hear anymore. And really, who could blame her?

"No, no, no. Don't worry." He rushed to 'comfort' Mary. "He's lying. At least about the drugs." Mary looked slightly relieved but still discomfitted.

Luke didn't look the least bit apologetic for his lies. He nodded towards his mother. "She hates me, you know." It was said matter-of-factly, no sadness or self-pity in his words, just yearning, again. Yearning for acceptance.

"No, I don't!" Mary protested, but it sounded so false even Mary didn't quite believe herself. She didn't hate Luke, she just hated the circumstances that they were living in right now. The life they were living.

Even though there was no tingle in the back of his head, Sylar knew she was at least half-lying. "Well, I don't even need an ability to know that that's a lie." He smirked, looking over at Mary. Mary didn't defend herself, just looked miffed and leaned back in her seat. He turned back to Luke. "She can see it in you Luke. What you can do." His voice was definitely lower now.

"No, she doesn't know about it." Luke's voice was softer than ever.

"I'm not talking about the power. I'm talking about you." Sylar said.

Meanwhile, Agent Simmons seemed to have managed to get one of his hands out of the chair. Both Mary and Claire winced as his bloody, mangled hand was freed. Then Claire saw his gaze fix on the gun that Sylar had confiscated. Sylar's voice blurred in her mind. If he got the gun, he _could _kill Sylar... And for some crazy, unthinkable reason, her heart stopped at the thought. And not in joy. In fear. Like Sylar was a person she actually cared about. Maybe it was because of the little boy in the photo she had seen, maybe it was because if Agent Simmons didn't manage to kill Sylar, he would die...Maybe it was even because she had (very, _very_)briefly enjoyed his company, but for any one of these reasons, or all of them, she couldn't allow Sylar to die. Yet.

"This is what scares them...What's in here." Sylar was saying as Agent Simmons struggled to free his other hand, and Claire struggled to free hers. "The will."

"I love my son." Luke saw a tired expression wash over Sylar's face as Mary interrupted him. "I just want him to be happy!" She insisted. "Well, he's not." Sylar glared at her. "You lie, Luke because you'd rather be anyone else other than yourself." The understanding flowed through Sylar, followed by that oh-so-wonderful power surge, this time not fueled by a kill, but by his newly found empathic mimicry. "That's why you got into that fight. That kid could be dead with your ability, the only reason he's alive is because of your kindness and that scares you." Meredith chose this moment to wake. "What's going on?" She mumbled groggily, but was shushed by both Claire and Agent Simmons at the same time. Agent Simmons pulled his remaining hand out of the chair the same time Claire did hers and lunged forward for his gun. Agent Simmons grabbed his gun, and was about to shoot Sylar when Claire lunged forward, tackling him to the ground. "Hey, watch out!" She heard Luke yell, then felt something warm bubble through her body. Her vision starting to blur, she could only make out Mary's screams of 'Luke, what are you doing?!" and Meredith yelling, and something penetrating her stomache. As her vision started to fade, she saw one face standing over her; a puzzled expression etched on his face. "Sylar..." She murmured, as her vision went completely black.

* * *

_Back in Russellville, Arkansas..._

Nathan leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. God, it was hot out here. So far, most of the Specials had been detained, except for Peter, Tracy, Matt, Mohinder, Hiro, Flint Gordon and someone called Sparrow Redhouse and a few others. He rubbed his forehead, trying to relieve the massive migraine that was plagueing him. He hadn't had a bit of good news all day. His thoughts went to Claire. He gritted his teeth. Apparently, the team that had been sent to retrieve Sylar and Claire had been 'disbanded'. He didn't know exactly what that meant, and wasn't sure he wanted to. Maybe he should have sent Noah...His phone rang, jolting him out of his dark thoughts.

"Petrelli." He answered automatically, flipping it open.

"Nathan, it's me." Tracy's voice rang over the phone. He clutched the phone tighter to his ear. What the hell...

"You need to give yourself up _now_." He replied with urgency, thinking of Danko. If that psycho found her, he'd probably shoot her on sight.

"Why?" She asked. "Why do that when I have a way of getting exactly what I want?"

"This isn't a negotiation. You don't have anything that I want." _And thank god for that._

"I have Peter." Tracy said, glancing over her shoulder and the floppy-haired, superman wannabe.

Shit. Nathan slammed his fist down on the makeshift table in front of him. He took a deep breath, sighing.

"Okay, I'm listening." He gritted out. This was a really sucky break-up conversation.

"I get my life back." Tracy comanded, her chest feeling lighter even as she said the words. "I give you Peter, my part in this gets written off as 'never happened'. I go back to my apple martinis and overpaid lobbyists." She waited apprehensively for Nathan's reply.

"How do you wanna do this?" Tracy smiled. She knew he'd bite.

"Mile marker 47. There's an old historical site near the road. Three hours." She paused before adding, "And come alone. If I even see one pair of boots...Peter becomes a very big icicle."

Nathan squinched his eyes chut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No tricks. You can trust me,Tracy." Tracy snorted before hanging up. As if. He was the last person she would trust right now. She turned and almost jumped in shock when she saw Peter standing right behind her. She struggled to keep a neutral face. "He's on his way." She finally said, burying her hands in her jacket pocket. Peter nodded, face as stony as ever.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"You lost your ability?" Mohinder asked incredulously as he pulled on the ill-fitting shoes. "How?"

"It's complicated." Hiro frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"And unfortunate." Mohinder added. "From what I heard, it would have been quite useful today."

"It wasn't my fault," Hiro muttered, bundling up the hideous orange clothes in his hands and looking around for a place to hide them. Aha! He rushed forward, burrowing the clothes in the empty mini-igloo. "Now even Ando has a power. But he has no idea how to be a hero." Hiro remarked, remembering his and Ando's earlier argument.

"Then your friend Ando should stay as far away from here as possible." Mohinder said firmly. "And so should you." Hiro frowned and turned to face Dr. Suresh, a deeply perturbed expression on his face.

"You think I should leave?" Hiro asked, distraught. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Find a policeman, turn yourself in." Mohinder ordered.

"No." Hiro rebuked, standing his ground. That was a coward's way out. And Hiro knew, there were many things that could be said about him; but a coward was not one of those things. "It is my duty. I must help my friends."

"Not any more." Mohinder jerked to his feet, moving towards Hiro. "If you tell them your powers are gone, they may let you go." Mohinder really didn't want to see something bad happen to Hiro. He was one of the most genuine, optimistic people Mohinder had ever met in his life. His outlook on life was different, _better, _than most people's.

"Surrender? Never." Hiro dissmissed it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Mohinder gave a bitter chuckle. He was also one of the most stubborn. "I am a warrior." Hiro said, in a serious voice Mohinder had never heard him use before.

"This is not your fight anymore, Hiro." Mohinder said firmly. "Save yourself while you still can." And with that, Mohinder turned away to go check on Matt. Hiro stood there, frozen in place for a while, analyzing what Mohinder had said. He was wrong. Even if he didn't have powers right now, this would still be his fight. It would always be his fight. Powers or no, he would always be one of them.

Matt came to, staring at the pictures on the table. "Hey," He muttered non-committedly to Mohinder over his shoulder. The pictures on the table were confusing. Utterly confusing. However, there was only one that interested him right now. The rest could wait. It was a picture of Daphne sitting on a park bench somewhere with Ando. Daphne's arm was in a cast, but other than that, she looked fine. He sank back into his seat, sighing in relief. She was going to be fine. His mind flashed back to the picture he had drawn at home, and his mind began to panic once again. No, he had to go save her!

He heard Mohinder asking him questions but they rolled right over his head. Not now. Nothing was important right now, except her. He found his legs moving at an unnatural speed, propelling him forwards towards Daphne. "Those men will kill you!" Mohinder was shouting. "I'm not going to leave her!" He yelled back, not stopping. He _wasn't_ going to leave her.

* * *

_Back in Newark..._

Claire blinked, opening her eyes warily. There had been lots of yelling. Screaming too. Where was she?

Then it all came back. Sylar...Meredith...Luke...Shit! Agent Simmons! She pushed herself up from the floor with surprising strength, jumping to her feet. No one seemed to notice. All eyes were focused on the wall behind her. Slowly, she turned, scared of what she would see.

Sylar was holding Agent Simmons against the wall telekinetically, his hand raised in his all-to-familiar pose.

"Sylar?" She asked shakily, hoping to distract him from what he was doing long enough to figure out what the hell she could do to salvage the situation. She couldn't believe this. Only Sylar could make her regret saving him in less than five minutes. Sylar didn't move from his position, just drawled, "Oh good. You're awake."

"Sylar, let him go." She pleaded, stepping closer to him. He flinched, his shoulders tensing.

"He tried to kill me, Claire. He shot you." Sylar said, eyes darkening. Claire glanced down at her shirt. It was stained with blood. She felt a pang in her heart. She had gotten shot, and she hadn't even known. Her anger at Sylar shot up, remembering what he had stolen from her.

"Well, it's not like I noticed that, did I?" The sharpness in her voice could cut through steel.

Sylar let out a bitter chuckle. "It's the thought that counts."

Claire lost it. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid to save him! What the hell had she been thinking?

"That is it! Could you just stop this?" Claire yelled. "Not everything is about you! You can't just walk around destroying other people's lives just to make yourself feel better! You're acting like a spoilt _idiot_, like a child who didn't get the toy in the window! Get your head out of your ass, and act like a man!" Claire stopped her rant, catching her breath. The room was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop. Sylar turned slowly to face her, his eyes cold, but his lips were twitching upwards in a small smirk. "Are you quite done?" He asked in an amused voice.

Claire folded her arms. "That depends. Are you still going to kill him?" Sylar's eyes seemed conflicted for a moment, before relaxing. He turned back to Agent Simmons, who was holding his breath. Sylar raised his palm once more, slamming him backwards into the wall one last time. "That depends, Claire. If he tells me who sent him, in the next five seconds, or where my father is; I'll let him live. If he doesn't..It's such a shame." Sylar grinned evilly. Claire beseeched Agent Simmons with her eyes, but he just closed them, leaning back against the wall defeatedly. "Five..." Sylar began.

Claire glanced desperately around the room, begging anyone,_ anyone_, to say something, _anything_, that would save Agent Simmons life. Sylar was already at 3!

"Sylar, don't you dare do this!" Claire screamed, lunging towards him. Sylar stepped out of her way, easily dodging her uncalculated move.

"Claire, it's not my fault if he doesn't want to live, now is it?" Sylar asked with the same dangerous smirk on his face.

"Two." Sylar's eyes darkened. Claire's heart beat faster.

"One." Sylar raised his hand and Claire sunk to the floor. Sylar raised his infamous finger when a voice called out, "Wait!" Sylar turned towards Luke with interest.

"Yes?"

"I know where your father is."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**These chapters...I swear their going to kill me...Sorry about splitting up the chapter again, but I'm going back to school in 2 days, which means;**

**1. My updates will be _much _slower:(**

**2.I have absolutely no time to finish this chapter right now:(**

**But, I swear, I will update as fast as I can. Thank you to all those who are following this story, seriously, so touched! And as always, you have to check out Purple Lex, julyisfree, cerberus angel, Anei and PensAreAwesome...Go and discover their awesomeness:) And if you could leave a review, that would be great;) **


	5. Trust And Blood: Part 2

**Trust and Blood, 3x15, Part 2**

* * *

_Somwhere in Russellville, Arkansas..._

Ando and Daphne sat behind the broken off plane. Ando wiped a bead of sweat from the nape of his neck, before sighing and leaning against the wreckage.

"I had no idea being a hero required so much waiting." He grumbled.

Daphne echoed his sigh before slumping down beside him. "I hear ya. It's worse for me, I'm used to things going at warp speed." She let her head fall on his shoulder. "This is taking ages."

Ando sighed, putting some of his weight on her as well. "So, what? Are we just supposed to wait here for you to get shot?"

Daphne gave him an incredulous look. "Not if we can stop it." Looking at his confused look, she sighed. "Do you believe in destiny?"

Ando chuckled. "With Hiro it's hard not to."

Daphne smiled and shook her head slightly. "I don't. I think that we make our own lives, and that destiny is just what we call the things we think is going to happen." She gave him a wide but sad smile. "That's why I didn't really believe Matt about me and him in the beginning." She snorted. "All that talk about our future, and what _was _going to happen, as if we had no say in it. I thought he was crazy." Ando smiled. That was the Nemesis he remembered, the fast talking, sarcastic and destiny-defying speedster he knew.

"And now?" He asked, curious.

"I dunno." She sighed. "I really like him, he makes me laugh, and he's sweet...And pure and good...But sometimes our outlooks on life are really different. I wanna see the world, and he wants to settle down and be normal." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry," She rolled her eyes, guesturing wildly with her arms. "I'm just blurting all this stuff out to you like you're my psuedo therapist or something." Ando shook his head.

"It's okay." They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Daphne didn't know how long they had been sitting there, it'd felt like hours to her. The hot sun beat down on them and beads of sweat formed on Daphne's head. Her stomache cramped with nerves. She had never liked waiting. Then something occured to her. Why _was_ she waiting around to get shot? It wasn't like this was hers and Matt's established meeting place if he was ever kidnapped by men in ugly black armour. There was no reason _she_ couldn't look for Matt, was there? Why wait for Matt to come and find her? She abruptly rose to her feet, just as Matt came into view, followed closely by Mohinder and Hiro. Daphne couldn't help the huge smile that broke through on her face. She barely heard Ando spring to his feet behind her as she moved forward towards Matt. Before she could take a step though, she heard three shots ring out. Her eyes widened in shock and pain as the bullets hit her shoulder, ripping through her flesh. She felt someone catch her as she fell, she heard Hiro calling out 'nemesis, nemesis!', she heard someone grunt in pain behind her. And then she couldn't hold on anymore. The world faded in front of her, and the last thing she saw was Matt's worried face hovering over her, and then he was pulled from sight and the only thing she saw was the clear blue sky that hung over her.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Somewhere in Allentown..._

Claire leaned against the window in silence, feeling Sylar's eyes on her. He was probably wondering why she had taken that bullet for him...But she wasn't ready to give him an answer right now. Her reasoning had made sense at the time... It just didn't make sense to her now. She wiped away a stray tear from her eye, hoping he didn't see it. She hated showing weakness in front of him. But she _was_ tired. She wanted to go home. She wanted to hug Sandra and smell that all-too-familiar homey smell and curl up on the couch to watch a stupid romantic comedy that she would ultimately make fun of. Another tear escaped her. She wiped it away just as quick. She was being stupid. Peter would just...Deal. He would always be the hero. So that was what she was going to do. Deal.

"So...Claire...Gotta boyfriend?" Luke called from the backseat, pressing his lanky arms against the driver's seat and the passenger seat, and leaning so close toward her that it was making her slightly uncomfortable.

"No." Claire muttered, pressing her body closer to the door in a pathetic effort to get away from him. She had almost forgotten he was there. After Luke had made that confession that had saved Agent Simmons life, they had made a quick exit from the Campbell's house-leaving a horrified Mary Campbell, Meredith and a horribly bruised and battered Agent Simmons behind-and to Claire's relief, alive. And because Luke had refused outright(smart boy) to give Sylar the information on the spot, they were-dun, dun, dun- taking the annoying twerp with them.

"You're not lying." Sylar sounded surprised. Luke leaned closer, leering at her. "Good to know."

Claire rolled her eyes, shifting uncomfortably. Call her crazy-but she wasn't really into sharing her personal life with a psychopath and his would-be creepy sidekick. "You know, I kind of thought you were together." Luke commented from the backseat. Claire's head whipped around, her blond hair slapping Luke in the face. The look on her face was pure disbelief.

"You're kidding me, right?" Luke shook his head, smiling at the reaction he'd gotten out of her. "He's twice my age!"

"Hey, I am_ not _twice you're age." Sylar defended. "It's only a..." He paused, thinking it through. "..12 year difference."

"Yeah," Claire chuckled bitterly, ".._only_."

"Hey, at least you still have me." Luke called cheerfully.

"I'm overjoyed." Claire said flatly.

"So...Why are you here then?" Luke asked conversationally. "I mean, if you're not like, together."

"Oh you know," Claire replied with insincere cheerfulness, "crazy psychopath forces girl to choose between letting her dad or grandmother die, girl chooses to give herself up as hostage, psychopath brings her along on crazy roadtrip to find parents...You know, the _usual_."

"So, why are you single, Claire?" Sylar asked in a slightly stilted tone. "If memory serves, I remember all the guys being into cheerleaders. Or were they just creeped out by the fact that you can grow back your toes?" He flashed her a predatory smile.

"You can?" An amazed Luke called from the backseat. "That's so cool!"

They both ignored him. "I haven't actually had time for dating recently." Claire snapped back. "I'm usually too busy running away from creepy serial killers who like scalping people."

"True." She saw a half-smirk stretch across his face in the darkness and she rolled her eyes. Only he would be amused by that. "I hate you." She muttered under her breath. He smiled fully.

"34 times and counting." He sing-songed, and Claire let her head fall to the window with a thunk. She _really_ hated him. But somehow, she was smiling. Not widely, but still. She was smiling.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Tracy tapped her feet anxiously on the sandy, gravelly ground in front of her. She hated this place. She could feel Peter's breath on the back of her neck, and it was really annoying her. He was so_ clingy_. Or maybe it was just part of the plan that they had to stay close together, or... She rubbed her head. This was so tiring. She massaged her head gently, trying to erase the frown lines that had undoubtedly formed.

Her heart sped up as she saw yellow headlights flash into view. Here he was. "What do I do if something goes wrong?" She asked, twiddling her thumbs. He _was_ her back-up plan after all.

"I'll be right here." Peter re-assured her. "But get close to him, okay? Use your powers." A trace of fear edged it's way into Tracy's heart as she watched him get out of the car. "God, what if I kill him?" She pulled at a strand of loose white-blond hair that had fallen from her impromptu ponytail.

"You're not going to." Peter's voice was firm. "Just disable him. We get him, we use him as leverage against the government." Tracy bit her lip. Peter's plan wouldn't work; the government had a strict policy against negotiating with terrorists, and besides, if Nathan had really went up the rope with this, what was stopping them from just carrying out Nathan's idea without Nathan? She shook her head at Peter's naivety. _Amateurs_. But then again, there weren't that many options. She vaguely heard Peter's voice whispering to her something about Nathan not being his brother anymore and not being her boyfriend, and she rolled her eyes at that. She may still care about Nathan a little, but it wasn't really what she was worried about. She was more worried about how she was going to get out of this, and what she was going to do and how this was going to go, and... She felt Peter give her slight nudge forward and she walked out into Nathan's periphal vision.

Tracy took cautious steps toward him, playing with her fingernails and glancing around nervously; she didn't trust him for a minute. "I came alone. Just like you asked." Nathan's voice draws her eyes back to his. He looked...Different. His hair was dishevelled, and the frown lines that she had only glimpsed on rare occasions were deeper than usual. She smiled inwardly. He was nervous. Good.

"Where's Peter?" He asked, glancing around the heavily wooded area.

Tracy's eyes glinted in the headlights. "I've got him." She said tightly. "I told him you offered us amnesty. He'll come out when he knows he's safe." The lies rolled right off her tongue, and Nathan caught them instantly. Peter would never give in like that. He would fight for what he deemed was right until the very end. He _was_ Peter, after all. "It'd like I told you; you deliver me Peter and I give you your life back. You'll be surrounded by your friends and go back to playing house with the Governor. Nobody has to get hurt." She doesn't like something in his voice, and she feels her hands turn blissfully cold. But still...It sounds so good, and if it only takes giving up Peter... She lets the layer of frost in her hands thin.

"You must know I'd assume this was a trap." Nathan begun carefully, not wanting to push her over the edge. "But I came anyway, Tracy, for you. The offer still stands." He rushed to re-assure her. "You deliver me Peter, you get to go free." Tracy let herself brush of the traces of alarm rushing through her system at that particular tone of voice, willing herself to believe him. Nathan walked toward her, reaching a hand out to her. Tracy froze, unable to believe him completely, but wanting to _so much_.

"You're serious?" She asked, begging him to tell her _'yes, Tracy, I am.' _Begging him to be the guy who had saved her in what seemed like a very long time ago.

She saw his eye twitch, and he gritted his teeth. "Tracy, I am not the devil you think I am. Someone like you I can trust. You and I, we think alike." Peter snorted from behind the tree he was hiding behind. "Peter's..." He heard Nathan say, and trail off. "He's unpredictable." He finished. Peter smirked. Politicians hated the 'unpredictable'. He took great pride in that. "He thinks he's going to save the world, but that's not what's going to happen. He's going to wind up getting all of you killed..." Peter's blood boiled. He wasn't the little kid with rose-tinted glasses anymore, why couldn't anyone see that? The only one who actually treated him like he knew what he was doing was Claire, and she hadn't really talked to him in...A while. His thoughts drifted to his niece. She had been mad, he knew, when he told her she _was_ going to become a villain; like there was nothing she could do about it. And he knew that Claire absolutely _despised_ being told what to do. She and Sylar were so alike sometimes, he thought to himself, chuckling darkly as he thought of Claire's reaction if he told her that. She'd probably kill him or something. He strained to hear what Nathan was saying. "All of you..." He re-emphasised. He saw Tracy waver and he knew it was time to take action.

"What are you saying, Nathan?" He asked, stepping out from the tree and cocking his gun. "Are you telling her that I'm crazy? Demented?" Nathan's hands shot up in the air at Peter's fiery tone, but Peter knew that it was in anything but surrender. "You lock me up. You fix everything. You call off your dogs." Nathan couldn't remember the last time Peter's voice was this harsh. He almost sighed in relief when he saw him, he had been making up nightmare scenarios that Peter had died in the crash. Peter saw the lasers that meant guns before Tracy did. Asshole.

"You said you were alone." Peter heard the disappointment and betrayal clear in Tracy's broken tone. She obviously wasn't as used to all this as he was. He jerked forward, grabbing Nathan around the neck and pressing his gun to the crook of his neck. "How many times are we going to do this?" He growled at Nathan, truly fed-up with the situation.

"As many times as it takes." Nathan ground back. He could see the red dot on Peter's forehead clearly. Shit. They had a clear shot.

"Do it. Take the shot!" He heard someone yell. Danko, probably. He really hated that guy.

"Back them off." Peter ordered, his grip on Nathan tightening. "I can't do that." Nathan replied evenly. "Back them off!"His voice was louder this time, and the tone of his voice reminded Nathan of when Peter was a kid and he used to take his things. People never really did change. "It's over, Pete, give up." He ordered, as he saw the spot fix on Peter's forehead. "Take the shot!" He heard someone yell, louder than before. "No, this is just the beginning." Peter whispered into Nathan's ear. "Take the damn shot!" Danko practically shrieked. Nathan felt something strange and unfamiliar seep through him, and then Peter's hands were gone from around his neck and he felt a whooshing sound behind him. He looked up just in time to see Peter disappear into the night sky. Damn it! "Take her!" He ordered, his fist curling. Great. Now he was sure Peter was going to start some kind of revolution, a revolution against him. And there was another thing he was sure of as he glanced up at the dark blue sky. There was going to be blood; and lots of it. He shuddered at the thought. He only hoped they would all be ready for it.

He heard Tracy screaming behind him, and he averted his eyes. He didn't want to see the cold judgement, the betrayal he would surely find in her eyes. Instead, he turned to Noah and Danko. "What the hell was that?" Danko glared at Nathan as he walked past him, then turned to turn the full force of it on Noah. "I told you, I didn't have it." Noah muttered back, meeting Nathan's eyes.

"I saw it." He commented softly as Noah walked by him. "You had Peter cold." Noah's eyes were indifferent, cold and distant. "Yes, I did." There wasn't a trace of regret in his voice, just a little judgement. Because, no matter how terrible a thing Noah did, it was always to protect his family, forget about the world and let it burn. Nathan looked away. "Thank you." He mumbled. There was nothing else he could gave him a small nod before turning and walking away. Noah doubted that Claire would ever forgive him if he killed Peter. Nathan looked up just in time to see Noah give him a long, hard look as if trying to figure something out, before he turned away, not looking back. He was glad he had kept Noah here instead of sending him after Sylar and Claire. From what he heard, all the agents he had sent out had been injured and he needed Noah to be in op form. The Sylar situation had to be controlled. What gave him a tiny jolt of happiness was that Claire had been spotted, and she was said to have looked unhurt...But for how much longer? Nathan shivered in the cold air. There were alot of questions to be answered, and he wasn't so sure if he wanted the answers.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Peter smiled slightly as he saw Hiro, Ando, Matt and Mohinder walking towards each other. A feeling of familiarity shot through him and he felt like hugging all of them briefly. He was so happy to have all these people fighting with him; or anyone, really. No matter what, he was sure that all of them would always be fighting on the same side. At least he hoped so. He felt his feet hit the ground, and wasted no time in running towards them. He tugged his phone out of his pocket.

"Toss all your cell phones." He ordered, not wasting time with greetings. "This is the last time we get together using these things. If we can find each other, so can they." He paused, briefly looking up at his comrades. "I figure we have fifteen minutes." Mohinder nodded, gathering some sketches and laying them out on the table. "What are these?" He said, looking at them closely. There were four all together. The first one he saw was of Hiro, somehere in...India, perhaps? holding out his hands in front of a woman in an obviously defensive stance. "I recognise this building; it's the Divya Velukkai in New Dehli." He heard Mohinder say to Hiro. His attention was too wrapped up in another picture with him and Mohinder holding up what looked like an older version of Claire, Matt trailing behind them with a gun in his hand..He frowned, not knowing what to make of that.

His eyes trailed over the other two pictures curiously. The third was Ando and a girl with short, blonde hair sitting on a park bench. The fourth was a girl that looked slightly like Claire lying down on a couch, her legs propped up on an dark haired man's lap, who was quite unmistakably Sylar. He was kneading the soles of her feet while the girl looked up at him with an expression of slight alarm. He blinked. That didn't make sense at all. It couldn't be Claire. He shook his head, shoving the picture aside. It was time to rally the troops.

"What they're doing isn't justice, it's stupid. It's blind fear." Matt was saying. Peter nodded in agreement.

"If you don't want to see them punished, what do you want?" Mohinder asked, looking slightly confused.

"I want them to pay, for Daphne." Ando flinched at her name, and stepped away from the table they were gathered at as if he had been burned. Peter noted this, wondering what was the story there.

He was slightly alarmed at the tone in Matt's voice. He didn't like the idea of revemge and anger; it made people stupid and reckless, but they needed all the motivation they could get right now, good or bad.

"Matt, that's not us; that's not you." Mohinder's answer was immediate and firm. Matt didn't say anything, just looked away. Peter took this as his cue to take over.

"Let's get one thing straight; our lives as we knew them are over. We can't go back to anything that we knew."

Ando spoke up, looking accepting, but still slightly pained. "Then what do we do?"

Matt spoke up this time. "We bring the fight to them. With everything that we got." Peter smiled. Now they were getting started.

"Won't be easy," He warned. "Credit cards, bank accounts, they're gone. Homes are going to be watched, can't trust the phones." He took a deep breath. "We gotta find away to defend ourselves." He took another deep breath, trying to focus what he was about to say. "We leave_ everything_. We do what it takes to survive." He met all of their eyes, seeing in them what he felt. Determination, anger, fear. "Things we can't even imagine. Remember, they're gonna come for us, and when that day comes, we have to be ready." Hiro was the first to nod in agreement, Matt second, Ando third and Mohinder fourth. Peter smiled a grim smile. They were in this together, for better...And for worse.

* * *

_You trembled like you'd seen a ghost  
And I gave in  
I lack the things you need the most, you said where have you been  
You wasted all that sweetness to run and hide  
I wonder why  
I remind you of the days you poured your heart into  
But you never tried  
I've fallen from grace  
Took a blow to my face  
I've loved and I've lost  
I've loved and I've lost_

_Explosions...on the day you wake up_  
_Needing somebody and you've learned_  
_It's okay to be afraid_  
_But it will never be the same_  
_It will never be the same_

_Explosions-Ellie Goulding_

_Somewhere in Allentown..._

Claire stared out the window uneasily, shoulders rigid. Sylar glanced over at her from the driver's seat, eyebrows raised. "Why so tense?" He asked bemusedly, making a right at the corner of the street. He could see the flashing lights of a no-tell motel, exactly what he needed. "Luke fell asleep half-an-hour ago."

"What? Am I supposed to be comforted that there's only one_ concious_ psychopath in the car now?" Claire snapped back, slumping back in her seat.

"Touch'e." He smirked, honking twice to wake Luke up. He pulled into an empty lot in the small carpark beside the motel, and Claire immediately jumped out.

"Wha...?" Luke's bleary voice sounded from the behind him.

"Get out." Sylar pushed open the door, not bothering to see if Luke followed him. He was tired, and he just wanted to get some sleep. Maybe annoy Claire a little, but mainly..Sleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw headlights flash, and for a second, he thought the driver looked slightly familiar, but when he looked over, the car was gone. He rubbed his eyes blearily, making his way over to the check-in counter. "One room, two beds." He said, shooting Claire a smug grin. She glared back, muttering something prolific underneath her breath. He laughed out loud.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Claire was angry and tired. It looked like she wouldn't be getting a bed either this time, she thought to herself, frustrated and annoyed. Luke had claimed one of the two beds the minute they walked through the door, saying that the only way she was getting the bed was if she shared it with him. And she would die(no matter how hard to achieve that might be), before she did that. The other bed, obviously went to Sylar, and she was left with the small, dusty couch. She sighed, too tired to fight and dumped the bag of clothes they had bought at Target on the floor. She needed a shower. A knock at the door drew her away from her sleep-centered thoughts, and she answered it without thinking. Her mouth dropped open when she saw who it was. "Mom?" Her voice whispered.

"Meredith, what a pleasure." A deep, sarcastic drawl came from behind her and Claire jumped backwards, almost falling into Sylar's arms. She turned to face him, eyes wide with terror. He shot her the same bemused smirk.

"I thought I was imagining it when I saw you earlier." Sylar said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. "Now I know I was right."

Meredith didn't say anything, she just stared at Claire with a glassy-eyed look that Claire couldn't read.

"So what are you here for Meredith?" Sylar continued, studying the blonde-haired woman critically. "It must be a good reason, I'm sure you know that even Claire, persistent as she is, can't stop me from killing you that many times." He glared at Claire, but Claire didn't notice, still frozen in place with terror. He was right, she couldn't stop him from killing her if he really wanted to, that much he had proved. Her heart sank.

Meredith's eyes shifted to Sylar's, becoming as hard as steel. "I want my daughter."

Sylar chuckled darkly. "You can't always get what you want. Leave." He ordered, something dark glinting is his eyes. "I don't particularly want or need your power, but if you don't leave right now..." He grinned dangerously. "I'd be happy to take it off you." Claire watched the conversation with wide eyes.

"You don't have any use for her." Meredith countered.

"On the contrary, she has many uses." He smirked. "She always manages to bring along a party of interesting people. You, for example..I'm sure Peter will be turning up soon, maybe Noah...Not Nathan, though." He snorted. "He really is a pathetic father, isn't he?" He gave her an appraising glance. "I'm sure you must have been relieved when he left you for...What's her name?..Heidi?" He taunted, and Meredith's fists clenched. "Most of all, by taking her, I get revenge on all of you..I can see the attraction. She's ripe, pure, indestructable...Special..." He laughed darkly. "The perfect daughter."

Meredith's temper flared. "Nathan didn't seem so pathetic when he sent those agents after you." It sounded pathetic, but it's really the only thing out of all he said that she can really defend.

Sylar narrowed his eyes at her. "You're not lying."

"He sent all those agents...For me?" They both glance at Claire then, and even Sylar has to wince when he heard the blind hope and disbelief in her voice. It seemed like he wasn't the only one with daddy issues. Meredith on the other hand, felt a hot, burning flame with prickly claws spread through her. Jealousy. She couldn't help it, though. She's the one who's standing in front of this dingy motel room, risking her life to save her, and Claire was still...She doesn't even know how to describe it..._Starry-eyed_ when it came to Nathan? Righteous anger shot through her. _Especially because of what he's doing now_, a nasty voice whispered in her ear,_ it's really just my duty to tell her what her father is doing_.

"No, not just for you," Meredith practically snarled, and even a deaf person could hear the spite in her voice, or at least, that's how Claire felt. At Meredith's harsh tone, Claire felt like the floor was being pulled from under her, and all she could do was try to keep her balance. "He's going after all of us, all the _Special _people." She turned to Sylar, eyes glittering spitefully. "_He's_ probably the only reason he sent so many."

There was a beat of silence, and Meredith realised what she'd just said. "Claire, I..." The silence hung between them and Meredith wished she could take it back.

Claire's mind blurred with questions. How could it be true? Was it true? Was Meredith lying? Did Meredith even have her facts right? Would Nathan really do that to her? To Peter? To all of _them_? The more she thought about it, it kind of made sense. She didn't want it to, but... He and Angela had wanted to blow up New York city, just so he could be President...It wasn't that far off...

"Claire, I'm-" Claire cut her off.

"How do you know all this?" Claire asked, trying to regain her composure. She wasn't going to cry in front of Sylar. She wasn't.

Meredith seemed discomfitted talking in front of Sylar, but she told Claire anyway. "Noah told me."

Claire gave a breathy laugh. Of course. Her dad. Always managing to get in the middle of things.

Claire turned away from them both, hurrying down the steps to the parking lot. "Claire, I'm-" Claire whipped around, blonde hair flying against her face.

"What?" Claire snapped. "You're sorry?" Meredith opened her mouth but no words came out. "Sorry that I have Nathan for a father?" Meredith still didn't say anything. "Yeah, I am too." And then she turned and ran. Meredith stood frozen on the steps, torn between chasing after Claire and turning tail and running away.

"Leave." Sylar's voice brought her back to the moment. Turning tail and running seemed like a good idea right about now. Meredith closed her eyes in defeat.

"Can I just say goodby-" Sylar cut her off.

"No, you can't. And I doubt she wants to talk to you right now." Sylar's voice was cool, calm and deadly. She was almost certain of what would happen if she refused to obey him. A picture of her with the top of her skull missing flashed through her mind. She was halfway down the steps when Sylar's voice rang out again.

"And Meredith?" She froze. "If I see you again, I can gurantee you that you'll be missing several body parts." The ice in his voice was clear, every syllable dripping with promise. She couldn't run fast enough. The thing is, she wasn't sure who she was running from. Sylar, or Claire?

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sylar stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed. He ran the thin towel through his hair, slipping into his clean, brand new clothes with ease. It felt so good to be in something he hadn't worn for more than two days.

He stepped through the bathroom door, checking to see if Claire was back yet. The room was still cheerleader free. Luke had fallen asleep on his bed, and was now snoring loudly. Sylar rolled his eyes. Typical.

He understood though, why Claire had run. Sometimes the truth really does sting like a bitch. In a way, he felt sorry for her. He had managed to escape that family. She was stuck with them. He heard someone sobbing, crying earnestly, somewhere in the parking lot if he had to guess. Claire. Before he knew it, he was walking towards the sound. He chalked it up to the fact that he had never really seen Claire crying before.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Claire hugged her jean-clad knees to her chest, letting herself cry earnestly, for the first time in... Well, actually since Sylar had taken her power. She couldn't even remember when that had been. She frowned up at the sky. There were no stars. She remembered her dad, her real dad, not Nathan, teaching her about Venus, Mars, all the constellations when she was younger. She missed him so much. Lyle too. Sandra, her _real_ mom. She cried harder, leaning against the car behind her.

"Hey." Sylar.

"Could you just go away?" Claire tried to wipe all traces of tears away from her face. She hated being weak in front of him. Or anybody, really. "Or come back later, when I''ve got energy to hate you." She hid her face in her hands, waiting for him to leave.

"Nah, I'm good." Came his reply.

"God, I really do hate you." She muttered, pulling her knees in closer to her face. Sylar chuckled, hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly. He wasn't even sure why he'd come down here. As much as he loved to tease her, when she was like this... He wasn't that bad of a guy.

He turned to leave. She stopped him. "Wait..."

He turned to her, eyebrows raised. She bit her lip, hesitating. Throwing caution to the wind, she did something incredibly...crazy. "Just...I need someone to talk to right now."

"And you want that someone to be _me_?" The incredulity in his voice was obvious, and really, who could blame him?

"Just..." Claire bit her lip and glared at him. "..I'll do the talking, 'kay?"

He shrugged, sitting down and leaning against the car opposite her. This should be interesting.

The words started to leave her mouth in a rush. "This has to be the worst few weeks of my life! I'm spending it with you, for one, and now there's some mini-you-wannabe tagging along which we picked up after torturing a person!" Claire let out a teary, strangled laugh. "And then my mom..." She ahook her head, "shows up out of the blue, and tells me that my dad, is rounding all of us up, and doing who-knows-what with them, and 'cause I'm stuck here with you, I can't do anything about it!" She put her head in her hands, and Sylar could hear all the tiny sobs she was trying to hold back from him echoing through his ears. He didn't know what to say, what to do with such honesty. He had never really had many friends or girlfriends and he had no idea what to do with the crying Claire in front of him.

"Urmm..." Claire looked up at him, looking incredulous.

"Urmm? That's all you have to say?! Especially since most of my situation is your fault?!"

Sylar struggled for an answer, when something occured to him. He threw his head back, laughing heartily.

Claire stared at him through narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?"

He managed to stop laughing, a big, shit-eating grin on his face. "No, it's just when you said it like that..." He choked back a laugh, "it sounded like you were my pregnant girlfriend who I knocked up, and you just gave me the news." He broke into another spurt of laughter. Claire stared at him for a moment, before she let out a small chuckle. Then another one, and another one, until she was laughing just as hard as Sylar. After a few minutes, the laughter died down and was replaced by awkward silence. Well, it was awkward for Sylar at least. He'd never really...Joked around with one of his former victims, and he wasn't exactly sure what the protocol was...

Claire broke the silence, by saying exactly what he had been thinking. "Bet you never did this before, huh?" She made a face at him, and he couldn't help but grin. He liked this version of Claire much better than the Peter-with-attitude mini she usually was.

"Anyway, I'm sorry." She made another face, and he noticed how her eyes were going slightly droopy. "When I get like this, I need someone to..." She yawned, and rubbed her eyes before continuing, "..talk to otherwise I'll just go mad, and..." She yawned again, her eyes drooping a little more. He watched curiously. All that crying must have made her rather tired, he concluded, and she stayed up all night cursing at me the day before...He watched as Claire's eyes closed fully and her breathing slowed to a more natural pace. He could have laughed. No matter how grown up she acted during the day, she was still like a little girl, tired out after a temper tantrum. He sighed, rising from the ground. He stared at her, wondering just how he's going to manage this one... Finally, he huffed, and wrapped one arm around her back, and a second one under her knees, in that classic hero move. He managed his way into the room, and momentarily hesitated before huffing again and telekinetically rolling back the covers of the bed Luke wasn't occupying and setting the sleeping Claire down. He ran a hand through his hair, and fell back onto the creaky, overly-soft sofa behind him, trying his best to ignore the fact that his feet were hanging quite obviously over the edge of the sofa.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Meredith placed the phone shakily on the dahboard of the car, and pressed the record button. "Claire... " She started, hesitating. "I really am sorry for what I said. I was mad, and I didn't think. I'm sorry for a lot of things...Not being able to save you from Sylar, for one...For not being a better mother, for not being able to tell you this in person..." Meredith choked back an unexplicable wave of tears, and continued, "I just wanted you to know, that I love you. And I'm sure Nathan does too. I hope you'll manage to escape or maybe he'll let you go, or maybe I'll even find a way to save you..." Meredith grinned shakily into the camera and let a flame burst to her hand, remembering their first meeting. "I still have a trick or too under my sleeve, you know..." She held back another wave of fresh tears. "So, goodbye, I guess, for now. I really do love you." Meredith clicked the stop button, and marched into the motel's shabby lobby. She placed the phone on the counter, ordering the clerk to give it to the occupants of room 2B when they checked out. And then, with a final glance in the rearview mirror, she was gone. And she wasn't entirely sure where she was going.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Okay, that's it...*pants* I'm done! Finally! I thought I'd never finish that chapter! WHEEEEEEEEEEE! Thanks so much to cerberus angel for helping me with that last scene, you are awesomeness! And to julyisfree who inspired me to get my act together and finish this chap with her amaaazing preview for My Neighbour The Serial Killer, which got me all hopped up on Sylaire-ness;) THANK YOU!**

**As always, please check out julyisfree, cerberus angel, Purple Lex, Anei, PenAreAwesome and a new Sylaire writer, justforme83;) She is amazing, BTW:))) And if you could leave a review, that would be amazingness;)**


	6. Building 26: Part 1

**Building 26, 3x15**

_**The war has just begun...**_

* * *

_I'm gonna fight 'em off  
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back  
They're gonna rip it off  
Taking their time right behind my back  
And I'm talkin' to myself at night  
Because I can't forget  
Back and forth through my mind  
Behind a cigarette_

_And the message comin' from my eyes says leave it alone..._

_Don't wanna hear about it  
Every single one's got a story to tell  
Everyone knows about it  
From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell  
And if I catch it comin' back my way  
I'm gonna serve it to you  
And that ain't what you want to hear  
But that's what I'll do_

_~Seven Nation Army, The White Stripes~_

* * *

_Costa Verde, Bennet House..._

**You don't have to be Special to be  
a hero. Warn Alex. Government agents coming  
to get him. Sams Comics on Buford. He's like  
your sister. GO NOW.-REBEL**

Lyle stared at the screen. What the hell? What was going on? He glanced across the table at his dad, who was shovelling cereal into his mouth like it was a lifeline. His mom was fawning over Mr. Muggles, as per usual. "Hey dad, where did you say Claire was again?" Lyle asked casually, gripping his phone tightly under the table.

"She's staying at her grandmother's house in New York." Noah's faced tensed slightly when he said this, before relaxing. His grip on his spoon stayed unnaturally tight.

"Right..." Lyle glanced down at the message. "Well, I'm just going to, you know..." He pushed his chair back and made a mad dash for his room.

**Govertment agents? **He typed back urgently. **What's going on? Is Claire okay?**

His phone beeped half a second later. **I think you should talk to your father about this. WARN ALEX FIRST. HE IS IN DANGER.-REBEL**

Lyle ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. Why was his family always stuck in the middle of these things? He groaned at the ceiling and grabbed his driving license, a pair of sunglasses and a hat from his table. It was what Claire would do.

"Hey mom," He called as he ran back down the stairs, "do you mind if I use the car for a while? My friend Justin has this new video game and I have to check it out." He begged her with his eyes. Sandra rolled her eyes at him.

"Sure." She searched her bag for a while, trying to locate her keys. She pulled them out of her bag with gusto. Lyle reached for them, but Sandra held them out of his reach. "First..." Lyle held his breath, "have you done your homework?" Lyle rolled his eyes. Typical.

"Yeah, sure, I'm done." He impatiently held out his hand for the keys. She handed them to him, grinning. "Good boy. Be back home by 7." Lyle nodded, practically running out the door. He might be too late already.

* * *

_Somewhere in Arlington..._

Claire pushed herself up to a sitting position, blinking. She was in a bed. She tried to remember what had happened yesterday... Her mom dropped by, smashed her heart to pieces...She gritted her teeth, remembering. She had ran off, cried to herself in the parking lot... She winced. She had spilled her guts. To _Sylar_. Great. Just perfect. She always did stupid things like that when she was upset. Then something occured to her. If she was in the bed, where was Sylar?

She glanced around the room, searching for the dark haired man. Her lips quirked up when she saw him. He was curled up on the couuch, obviously uncomfortable, his legs hanging over the edge of the sofa. He'd let her have the bed. How...Sweet of him. She grimaced, then grinned ruefully. Sweet and Sylar didn't mix. At all.

She got off the bed, making sure not to make a sound as she padded over to the dirt-ridden bathroom. Quickly stripping down, she stepped into the stream of freezing cold water, shivering uncontrollably as she did so. With shaking hands, she rubbed the cheap-smelling soap onto her body and weaved the miniscule amount of shampoo into her hair. She washed it off, then slowly wrapped the paper-thin towel around her, still shivering in the cold air. She stuck her head out of the bathroom, grabbing the bag of new clothes from the floor. It would be so good to wear something that didn't smell faintly like foot.

* * *

Sylar was dreaming.

_The girl smiled infuriatingly at him. _

_"Hey bad boy," She grinned at him, her teeth sparkling in the light._

_"Elle," He breathed. His eyes narrowed. "You're dead..."_

_She nodded. "True, but I still exist in your mind.." She cackled, a sound that irritated his ears. "And I always will." The look in her eyes was evil. _

_He didn't say anything, just glared at her from his seat on the couch. Where was he again? Oh yes, at that motel with Claire and Luke. Elle paced around the room, tapping her fingers on her chin. "Nice to see you found someone to replace me." She sat on the edge of Claire's bed, grinning at him ruefully. _

_"She's pretty, isn't she?" She stated absentmindedly. "She looks like me, kind of. Except she's the total opposite, of me, of you." She smirked. "So pure, so ripe, just bursting with potential..." Sylar twitched, but he wasn't sure why. "She should be damaged, by all the things you've done to her. But she's not." Elle's smirk grew wider. "And that scares you. And she's the only person you've actually felt guilty for...Other than me and your mom, of course.." She snorted. "What a loony-bin she was." Sylar twitched again. "And that scares you too. She makes you feel..." Elle breathed. "Probably why you killed me." She shrugged. "What are you going to do with this one?" She gestured to the still sleeping blond. "You can't kill her," She grimaced, "Unfortunately." She crossed her legs and gazed at him curiously. "So what are you going to do with her; with them?" She raised an eyebrow at Luke._

_Sylar slumped against the seat. "I have no idea."_

* * *

_Building 26, Washington D.C.,_

Danko pinned a picture of Peter to the board that was already covered in photos. He gave a small, satisfied smile. He was pretty confident that they were going to catch these..._Abominations_..The only ones he thought were going to be a problem was Senator Petrelli's brother, and this Sylar too. He remembered Agent Simmons bloodied and bruised face, and the broken state of the rest of his men that he had sent after them. He was definitely going to be a problem.

He turned to address the room.

"Wires are up, accounts are frozen and we have traffic cam feeds from all 50 states. The Patriot Act gives us alot of leeway here." He swivelled around, making sure he got eye contact with all of them.

"What's our status on this Sylar guy?" One of his better researchers asked, twiddling his pencil and swivelling on his chair to look at Danko. Danko grimaced. "No leads yet, we're regrouping later today."

Nathan watched this with a frown on his face. Sylar was going to be a problem, that much was obvious. And no leads on Sylar meant no leads on Claire. Maybe they shouldn't have kept Peter in the dark about what had happened. He would have been able to save her... Probably, anyway. He wasn't so sure now, because now Peter was down to one power, making it a less than fair fight. He pondered this, letting Danko's words fly past his ears... Until he heard Danko say; "We bring them down. One way or another." This was when he decided to step in.

"No." He felt the entire room turn towards him. "_Not_ one way or another." He could feel eyes boring holes into his skin. "We will bring them _in_, we don't take them down. As I have mentioned before to Mr. Danko," he shot a glare at the man, "we are not assasins. We take them in without casualties, as far as possible. We use tranqs, not bullets." He paused. "Are we clear?" He asked, in a tone that was meant not to be argued with. The room was silent, and the tension was so thick that Nathan was surprised that he could move. He flashed a cold, shark-like smile. "Good."

"Now," he continued in a lighter tone, "our targets know their being pursued, which means that their going to be that much harder to catch. So I put in a request to the White House this morning to double our funding." He inserted another shark-like smile here. "Your job is simply to hunt them, track them, and bring them home," his eyes settled on Danko's, "_alive._"

* * *

_Building 26..._

Daphne's eyes fluttered open. Jeez, why did that hurt _so_ much. She moaned, clutching at the skin above her left arm, just slightly below her shoulder. She yelped as her fingers made contact with the wounded skin. She threw her head back, gasping at the sensation of the pain that sizzled across her shoulder. She felt like the skin was on fire. And why was it so cold? Her movements were slowing, something that truly sent her into a panic. She felt like... She bit her lip, tasting blood as she tried to focus on something else other than the pain that seared in her left arm. She took a deep breath, trying to gather herself and figure out what the hell was going on.

Her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to gage where she was. The room was unfamiliar, hospital-like, but not quite. It's facilities were more run-down than any hospital's and the thin, rusting metal that coated the walls were peeling. Hardly hospital standards. She had spent enough time in hospitals to know. The pounding in her head and shoulder was making it hard for her to focus. She felt dizzy, and was her skin hot? She had been shot, right? So why did it feel like she had a really bad case of the flu?

She peeked down at the wound, before flinching and looking away. The skin around the bullet holes were raw, mangled, and by the look of things, it hadn't been treated. She glanced around the room for anti-septic cream, iodine, _anything. _She remembered faintly her mom telling her once, after she'd fallen and scraped her knee, that you always had to clean your wound, no matter how small or big, or there'd be an infection. She closed her eyes, blinking back tears. She hadn't thought about her mom in a while.

The door of the room she was in creaked open. Daphne shut her eyes immediately, pretending to be unconcious.

"Do you want me to treat her?" A woman's voice asked, unsure and nervous.

"No." There was no sympathy in the man's voice, but it wasn't cruelty either; it was just cold and hard. "Leave her."

Daphne was finding it increasingly hard to focus, her mind was blurring. The cold air pressed her mind inwards, and she succumbed to it, head pounding and skin burning as she fell into a restless slumber.

* * *

Angela's hands closed around the thin Egyption cotton sheets, her fingers leaving indentations as she pressed down on them.

_The street was filled with people. Men in black armour on one side, and Peter, Matt Parkman and a curly haired boy on the other. Nathan was in the middle, trying to keep the two opposing sides apart. Kirby Plaza was alive with screams, yells and battle cries. And then she saw it; that change in what she'd been seeing for weeks. A small, blonde-haired girl whizzing into the center of the action, hand in hand with Ando Masahashi and Hiro Nakamura. She squinted, her eyes narrowing. She was sure she'd seen the same girl get shot... The scene changed._

_A dark haired man, standing on the edge of a dark abyss. **Sylar**. His face was stone, painted with grief and an unnameble anger. He looked...Wild. Uncontrolled. Which was unusual. Then there was a flash of lightning, and a familiar blonde-haired girl appeared beside him, pleading with him and tugging him away from the edge. He succumbed to her as she pulled him away. Angela moved through the endless fog, trying to catch a glimpse of this nameless girl. Through the mist, fog and darkness, she caught a glimpse of blue-green eyes, and again, that oh-so-familiar blond hair. Angela froze, her mind working overtime. **Claire.**_

Angela gasped as she woke, sitting up straight, her hands still tangled in the sheets. Her breathing slowed, but her fear remained. The game had changed. A new piece had been revealed. A dusty old chest board flashed through her mind as she remembered a game she and Arthur had played a long time ago. A younger version of Arthur pushed a piece across a gleaming chessboard.

_Arthur smiled to himself as he replaced her knight with his bishop. Something gleamed in his eyes. "Bishop takes knight."_

_Check._

* * *

_New Dehli, India..._

Hiro glanced at the picture of the sketch Matt had drawn on his phone. It was almost exactly the same as the scene in front of him. An expression of childlike glee lit up his face from the inside.

"This is it, Ando." He announced, grinning. "The same towers, the same wedding canopy... The exact spot from Matt Parkman's drawing." He breathed in, taking in the scent of Indian spices and fresh morning air. "Now, all I have to do is save the bride, and stop the wedding."

Ando looked supremely unenthused. More so than usual. Hiro took in his friend'd dark spots under his eyes. He reached out, patting Ando's shoulder. Nemesis... He swallowed. She had become a casualty of war. He bit back the small wave of tears that came to his eyes. It made him more determined than ever to be a hero.

Ando had told him about his promise to Nemesis. Ever since that day in Arkansas, Ando had seemed drained. Devoid of emotion, and just tired and worn out. He remembered that feeling. It was how he had felt after Charlie... He stopped, not wanting to think about the sweet, ginger-haired girl.

"Ando," Hiro said in a quieter voice, "Nemesis was a hero too." Ando gave him a weak smile.

"Hiro..." He started in Japanese. "I..." Words seemed to fail him. It was just the reality of the situation was hitting him, so fast. Daphne had died. Nemesis was dead. There would be no more hearing Hiro's increasingly animated conversations with her on Friday night's, no more hearing her bemused voice drift over the other end of the phone. An _actual_ person that he'd _actually _known; was just gone. Poof. And he'd let her down. He hadn't managed to get her to Matt. He had tried saving her, had gotten shot in the process. His left arm throbbed as a reminder. It didn't matter in the end; he'd had to leave her, or they'd have both died. He snapped back to focus.

"Never mind." He gave Hiro a forced smile. Hiro gave him a sad smile, clapping him on the shoulder once more. "This is crazy, you know?" He gestured to the foreign street around them.

"Well," Hiro started, his characteristic, highly enthusiastic voice back, "if there's one thing I've learned is that when destiny calls, you answer the phone!" He held up his phone to demonstrate. Ando rolled his eyes, grabbing the phone from him and peering at the sketch.

"I'm going to check what time the wedding starts." He announced, pausing before clarifying. "So I won't be late to stop it." Ando's eyes rolled skyward as Hiro rushed by him before he could say anything. _Oh Hiro..._ He thought as he rolled his eyes before turning to follow his friend. "Stop a wedding..." He muttered to himself. "It makes no sense..."

As he turned, he saw an attractive, Indian woman exiting the wedding tent. _The bride! _His eyes widened and he turned back to the photo of the sketch in Hiro's phone, just to be sure. Yup, that was her. And without another thought, he followed her.

**xxxxxxxxxxxx**

Ando followed the bride into a grand hall. It was covered in different flowers, red and orange cloth... Wedding gifts lined tables. The woman seemed troubled, and sad as she gazed at the elaborately decorated cake, wiping away a tear.

Ando stepped forward, and she glanced at him. He smiled re-assuringly, and stepped closer.

"Hello," he took another step towards her. "Hi," he repeated, "my name is Ando."

The woman smiled, wiping away another stray tear. "I'm sorry," she apologised, "Annapoora."

"Annapoora?" He repeated, unsure if he was pronouncing it correctly. She nodded, smiling weakly.

"Your name sounds familiar. Are you a guest of the groom?" She asked, playing with a flower petal on the table. Ando shook his head, smiling.

"No, not exactly." He peered at her, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Annapoora shrugged, looking away. "Just a little sad, that's all." She smiled, her eyes faraway as she rubbed at her eyes.

"On your wedding day?" He asked, intrigued by the strange, beautiful woman. He walked round to her. "But this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, isn't it?"

Annapoora laughed somewhat bitterly, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. "Yeah," she nodded, "that's what they say." She look ed extremely sceptical at this piece of knowledge.

_Well, might as well get right to it,_ Ando thought, before saying firmly, "Then you must call of the wedding." The shock on her face registered, followed by extreme confusion. He was familiar with this expression. It was the same expression many people held when Hiro started talking. _Am I becoming Hiro?_ He wondered briefly, before snapping back to reality. Annapoora was blinking at him, like she'd just only registered that he was there.

"This is incredible..." Her voice shook.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_**Building 26, Washington D.C.**_

_"Abby Collins." A tall, brunnette woman with a cold smile held out a hand toward Nathan. Danko knew at that instant, by the look in her eyes... She was going to need some extra convincing. And he could tell by the tension in Petrelli's shoulders, that he knew it too..._

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"The White House has transferred oversight of you operations to DHS." She said, her tone as smooth as a practiced politician. Nathan winced. She was going to be... Difficult.

"I'm here to kick the tires and find out what it is we bought." _Very _difficult.

"Just what we need." He heard Danko say behind him. "Another bereaucat." Nathan's smile tightened and so did Abby's. He had the strongest urge to right-hook the man across the face. Nevertheless...

"Can I give you a tour?" He asked, forcing a smile. Abby nodded, her face unreadable. He walked her toward the doors, away from Danko.

"I don't know how fully briefed you are on what's happened here, but the last few days have made it painfully clear to me that Eagle Rock Prison is woefully inadequate to our needs." If he had been paying attention, he would have seen the sceptical look that crossed over Abby's face. He didn't see it, but Danko did.

"The reason I've asked for such a large funding increase is to reinforce the facility so I can deal with these prisoners." He moved to open the door.

"Right, because their all... magic." The sarcasm in her tone was painfully clear. Nathan froze in place, turning towards her with narrowed eyes.

"You don't believe any of this, do you?" He asked, leaning against the door. Abby raised her gaze defiantly, her lips pursing.

"Who put you on this assignment, exactly?" He asked, folding his arms. He could see Danko watching them out of the corner of his eye. The last thing he needed was another one of his smart-ass comments.

"People clo_s_e to the President are concerned about his exposure on this." Abby's lips grew thinner. "Time travellers? Mind readers?" Her sceptism was obvious.

Nathan swung the door shut, sighing. "We are dealing with a threat the likes of which this country has never seen before." This was true, although he knew that he just sounded like he watched _Communion _too many times.

"We need better containment," he continued, ignoring her disbelieving gaze, "I can barely handle one detainee..."

She cut him off, eyes wide. "Are you telling me you're keeping a prisoner _here,_ " her tone was incredulous, "without warrant and Miranda rights?"

The pause that hung between them for a few seconds longer than it should have was enough for her to catch on.

"I'm going to need to speak to the President directly." He said, avoiding her gaze. He edged around her, and she stared at the door for a moment in disbelief. He was just _crazy _if he thought she was going to let that happen.

She turned to face him, as he walked briskly away from her. "Well, that's not going to happen."

He turned to face her slowly, the look in his eyes similar to a small child denied something he wanted. She took a step closer to him, her hands on her hips and her eyes spitting fire. In contrast to her demure curls and rose-coloured lipstick, she had an expression that could scare off a pitbull. Nathan forced himself not to flinch.

Her words were slow and they burned into him. "I'm your new boss, and I want to see your prisoner..." her eyes glinted dangerously, "_..**now**."_

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Danko was quick and methodic about it. It was easy, really, with his clearance. He just snuck in, made the screw a little looser... A piece of cake. Strauss didn't even know, she had been out cold when he came in. It was all for a good cause. The greater good... To rid the world of all these... His lip curled distastefully. **_Freaks_**_. _

It really was too bad that he couldn't see that the last shreds of his sanity would be rid with them.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The air smelt warm and damp, and she could smell the sweat that was becoming slightly rancid. Abby's eyes widened as her skin took in the heat that surrounded the room. She had just stepped in and she was already starting to sweat.

A woman with long, blonde-hair and lithe arms and legs was chained to a metal chair in the middle of the room, in front of 5 huge lights with heat radiating from them. Her body was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. The metal chains that clung to her wrists must be burning her by now.

"Oh my god." Abby breathed.

"I know. It looks harsh, but..."

"Abby?" Tracy peered over her shoulder, tugging against the chains.

Nathan's stomach dropped. He had a very, _very _bad feeling about this.

Abby's eyes widened. "This is Tracy Strauss." Her voice was hollow. She turned towards Nathan, her eyes almost the size of saucers.

"You know her?" Nathan's fists clenched and unclenched.

"She used to lobby for a defence contracter." Abby peered worriedly at Tracy, as if trying to match her to the woman she had met so many years looked so different without the pearls and that confident, surefire smile.

"Abby, they won't let me out of here. You have to do something." Tracy pleaded, her eyes wide with hope, completely ignoring Nathan.

"What is this insanity?" Abby asked him, searching his eyes for any plausible explanation.

"This woman is extremely dangerous." He said, shaking his head and looking grim, as if that would explain everything.

Tracy rolled her eyes at him. She was going to win this one. "Abby, he's lying. You _know _me."

"This woman is Tracy Strauss and you have her shackled to a chair." She looked at the chains that Tracy wore in horror, as she could hardly believe the entire thing was real.

Nathan put his hands in his pockets, his mouth set into a grim line. He was losing control of the situation. "That's why we need better funding."

"Funding?" Abby looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm shutting this operation down today, and then I'm going to the AG's office and I'm filing human rights violations against you, Senator."

Nathan's frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to argue, but she was determined to finish this.

"This is torture." She hissed. "You're through." Abby pushed open the doors, needing to get out of the room. She couldn't be here right now, she needed to take action now, before he used that silvertongue of his to convince her otherwise. She ignored Tracy's calls of panic as she left the room. She'd get her out of this soon enough.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"This is so cool." Claire put her fingers over her ears, trying to push down the urge to punch Luke in the face. She could see by the tension in Sylar's shoulders that he was fighting down the same urge, only something much more brutal. She leaned forward from the backseat, switching off the radio. The rock music Luke had insisted on was giving her a headache.

Sylar had been in a bad mood since he'd gotten up. He was quiet, which was unusual for him, and the look he'd sent Luke when the boy had told him to just keep heading west reminded her of a lion who was poised to attack. Not good.

"Road trip. My mum never took me anywhere." Claire studied Luke, wondering if he had pieces of his brain missing. Sylar looked like he wanted to kill him right on the spot.

"We should stop at some skanky diner somewhere and get some pie and some milkshakes." Luke looked positively ecstastic at the idea.

"We're not stopping." Sylar said, eyes stony and completely focused on the road.

This didn't seem to phase Luke. "Sure?" He glanced out of the window, a smug smile colouring his face. "It's a long way to your dad's."

Sylar's jaw twitched. "Where is he?" He asked, in a tone lower than usual. Warning bells started going off in Claire's head. Sylar spun the wheel around and they screeched to a stop by the side of the road.

He flung out his hand, and an invisible force glued Luke to the car window.

"Sylar!" Claire reached forward toward him, but he batted her hand away like she was a fly. Flicking his hands, she found herself pinned to her seat.

"You should've worn a seatbelt." He chuckled darkly, as she struggled to free herself.

His eyes darkened and he turned toward Luke. "You told me to keep heading West. Now I want to know exactly where he is."

Luke didn't show a trace of fear. "Okay." He replied steadily.

Sylar's brow furrowed. He hadn't really expected it to be that easy.

"He told me that if he ever had to disappear, I could find him in Minnesota. He's got a cabin, in the woods, about 28 miles west of..."

Sylar heard that familiar bell tolling in the back of his head. He snarled, flinging him back against the window.

"You're lying." He growled.

Luke just smiled, almost adoringly. Claire felt sick. "It's amazing how you can do that." He grinned to himself.

Now Sylar really appeared to be losing his patience. "Tell me where he is." This time it was quieter. Scarier, somehow.

"Okay, okay." He lifted his hands up in surrender. "He had an ex-wife who lives in Des Moines. They had a kid who was born with some kind of weird bone disord-" He choked on his words as Sylar's invisible hands seemed to press down on his throat. Claire could see a faint reddish outline appearing on Luke's neck.

"Stop lying to me." Sylar gritted out, pressing him further back into the seat.

"You...Can just..." Luke choked out, "stop right now...because I'm not going to tell you anything..." He gasped as the force on his neck increased, "'cause if I do...You'll...Kill me.." His voice was hoarse and forced but he still wore that annoying little smirk on his face. He knew he'd won.

Sylar released him with a growl, his forehead scrunched up in a scowl. His frustration was obvious, but he knew that _this time_, the little squirt had him beat.

He leaned back into his seat, hitting the horn to vent his frustration. He left a dent in the steering wheel, and Claire winced.

"We'll stop at the next diner." He said gruffly, screeching back onto the road. Claire surpressed a small smile, and Luke grinned. The kid was smart, she'd give him that. He was growing on her.

**xxxxxxxxx**

"This is what I'm talkin' about!" Luke's obnoxiously loud voice crowed as they pulled up in front of a roadside diner. Claire rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but grin when she saw the annoyance that flashed in Sylar's eyes as he got out of the car. Here was the big, bad monster, and he had to listen to a kid slightly more than half his age. She chuckled to herself as she got out of the car.

"Something funny, Claire?" Sylar drawled, smirking as he locked the car, Luke trailing ahead of them.

"Hilarious." Claire smirked up at him. "I think it's just _wonderful_ that you have to take orders from Luke, some high school kid who you picked up by the side of the road." She grinned up at him, and surprisingly, the grin was easy, and she found she didn't have to force it.

He scowled down at her grinning face. "Careful, Claire, or I might just decide to kill off one of your fathers." He smirked. "Which one are you mad at this week, again?"

The smile disappeared completely and somehow, he wished he hadn't said anything. She brushed past him, stomping off in the direction Luke had gone. Sylar paused, staring at the spot where Claire had been for a moment, before following suit.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

_Building 26, Washington D.C,_

The heat was getting to her. She could feel the sweat on her face, and the heat seemed to press into her. She was melting, and her ex-boyfriend seemed content to let it happen. Anger creeped up on her, and she slammed her hands forward against the the chains. How could she ever have fallen for him? She slammed her hands forward again, letting the chains bear the full brunt of her anger. _Clank._

She froze. Was it just her, or did she feel something loosen? She twisted her neck, craning to see if something had come loose. She felt her heart do a loop when she saw a nail sticking out. She gave another experimental pull, and the whole chain moved. She grinned when she saw that now two nails were loose.

"Argh!" With one final heave, it was done. Her chains were off. She felt like holding her hands up in the air and just waving them about, but she had no time for that right now. She needed to move.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"I'm talking about people who could slice open your head with their finger." Nathan twitched visibly as he thought of Sylar. "Make you think what they want you to think, get inside your head." Abby looked by far, more disbelieving than ever.

"This is your argument?" Abby's forehead creased, and she sounded even more ready to pull the plug. "That these people are so dangerous that they have no constitutional rights?" She stepped forehead, enunciating her next sentence to make sure he understood her perfectly. "There is_ no _justification for treating people this way." As Abby's frown increased, so did Nathan's.

"You can't pull the plug on a war, when you haven't even been to the front lines." His voice was strained almost begging her to understand. If he'd been there as many times as he had, he was sure she would be supporting this mission one hundred percent.

The alarm rang out behind him. He clenched his fists. "Excuse me." His voice was cold, emotionless apart from a tinge of fear that sounded almost unrecognisable coming from his mouth. Abby's eyebrows raised. Her curiousity was peaked.

Nathan spun around, following the surge of employees that pulled him toward the hallway. His heart stopped when he saw the tall blonde with her metal chains wrapped around one of his employees necks. His face was red, and anyone could see she was struggling to breathe.

"Tracy..." Her head snapped in his direction. Her blue eyes flicked over him, unreadable, and for a second, he actually thought she might spare the man. But only for a second. She pushed him away from her slightly, and he relished in the freedom, spinning around and away from her. But Tracy caught hold of his hand, and as Nathan watched the ice move up the man's arm, he felt his heart drop. He'd forgotten what it was like to watch a man die. Tracy smirked, and pushed him against the wall, watching the man shatter into a million little pieces. Them her eyes found his. There was a message hidden behind them.

_"This is just the beginning."_ They seemed to whisper. Then she shuddered, falling to the floor as the taser took it's affect. Everything seemed like a blur. He clenched his hands, willing himself to breathe. He had everything under control-he _did._

His eyes fell to the floor and he felt white-rage fill him up from the inside out. How the hell did she get out of her cage? He seethed inwardly. He turned to face Abby, whose face had went white. She was speechless, her face contorted in a mask of horror. He turned away, following the brigade that was leading Tracy away. She was never, _ever_ getting out of here again.

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

Sylar seethed inwardly as Luke blew bubbles in his milkshake and Claire aimlessly stirred her coffee. Kids. He was sitting with kids. Albeit, Claire was slightly more mature but still... He cut into his pancake with gusto, pretending it was Luke's head.

"At least tell me how long this is going to last." He said finally. He couldn't take this. The sooner he knew, the sooner he could leave Luke behind. As for Claire... She could help him with Noah, who was almost certainly on his trail by now.

"Are we driving for another week? Another hour?" He felt Claire lean in slightly, eager to hear Luke's answer. Luke ignored his question completely, pointing towards an old man sipping a glass of water while reading a paper.

"Check it out." He aimed his hand toward the glass, and almost immediately the water fizzed, bubbling and overflowing. Luke grinned as the glass shattered and the man promptly let go of it, his hand burning a hot red.

"Stop it!" Both Claire and Sylar reached out simultaneously, grabbing Luke's hand and yanking it downwards.

"Calm down." Luke chuckled, childlike glee spreading across his face. "I'm just messing with him." Claire's mouth opened to lecture him, but Sylar was faster.

"Not here." He hissed. Great, now he had to babysit the little numb-skull too?

He glanced around suspiciously, suddenly noticing a man sitting at the side-table, a little too engrossed with reading the newspaper. The man's eyes flickered upward, and Sylar tore his gaze away. He hadn't spotted a tail earlier, and Nathan's men couldn't possibly be on their trail already... Unless Noah was working with them, which wouldn't surprise him, actually... He refocused on Luke.

"We don't need the attention." He reprimanded, glaring at the teenager. "Our powers are not for amusement, Luke, do you understand that?" He growled out, wiping his mouth with a napkin that he stole from Claire, whose brows furrowed in annoyance.

"What, you only use your powers for a reason?" Luke was almost laughing, finding the idea positively amusing.

"Usually." His eyes flickered to Claire, who seemed _very _interested in his answer. "Sometimes I disappoint myself."

Claire's mouth twitched into a sarcastic smile. "Yup, like when he kills, tortures and eats people's brain." She chuckled bitterly.

Sylar opened his mouth to protest-he was _eating _here. He didn't really need that imagery in his head. He pushed his pancakes away, appetite sullied.

"You eat brains?" Luke gasped, mouth wide open, causing a red-headed waitress nearby to turn and give them a strange look.

"No." Sylar scowled, glaring at Claire, who smirked. "Claire's ust over-exaggerating."

Suddenly Claire's expression froze, her spoon clutched firmly in her hand. "Sylar.." She said, her eyes fixed on the man he had been staring at earlier.

"Yes...?" He gave her an inquisitive look.

"That guy over there. Reading the paper?" She nodded discreetly in his direction. "The paper he's reading... It's from last week."

Luke almost dropped his spoon. "Wait, are they the people who are after us? Are they like going to kill us or something? Are they-" Sylar clamped a hand over Luke's mouth, eyes boring into the kid.

"Go get the car. Bring it out to the front. Me and Claire will meet you there. Try not to look too suspicious." He studied Luke, eyes blazing. "Do you think you can handle that?" Luke nodded mutely.

Sylar smirked. "Good." He removed his hand from Luke's mouth, pushing him away. "Go." Luke got up and moved towards the door, casting a nervous gaze back at them before rushing out. Sylar took a final sip of his coffee, before grabbing Claire's hand and making towards the exit. Sure enough, the man with the paper's eyes flicked up towards them, before flicking down again when he saw they were looking.

"What are you doing?" Claire hissed, trying to tug her hand away from his. "Let go of me!"

"I'm playing a role, now stop acting like such a child!" He hissed back, scowling at her. She stopped struggling, pushing open the door and dragging him out of the diner.

He could feel them. He could hear tiny whispers, a few meters away, trying to stay undetected. They knew about his enhanced hearing. He smirked. Noah _was _working with them. _Interesting. _It made Claire twice as valuable.

He could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, with that slight unmistakable twinge of fear. They looked too conspicuous, standing out here, doing nothing. Too suspicious. He felt _vulnerable, _out here in the open. Where the hell was Luke? Why had they parked so far away? He dragged his eyes away from the horizon, refocusing on Claire. They were getting closer... Each minute seemed to tick by with increasing slowness.

Distraction. They needed a distraction. He did the only thing he could think of that wouldn't send the agents into immediate attack mood.

He pulled Claire against him roughly, attaching his mouth to hers in desperation. He manouvered her so that both of them faced away from the oncoming army. Where _was_ he? Claire's eyes were wide with shock, and he almost rolled his eyes when she started to pull away from him. Now was no time for shyness, or morality, unless she really did enjoy getting shot at. At least this way, their faces couldn't be seen, and they were just another happy couple that was into PDA.

"Just go with it." He whispered harshly into her ear. "Trust me, I'm not exactly enjoying this either." And with another harsh glare, he tilted her face up towards him, gently settling his lips over hers. Though she remained stiff in his arms, her eyes closed, and he felt some of the tension in her shoulders melt away. He was hyper-aware of everything; the nearness of the soldiers, the distant screech of tyres, Claire's clutch on his shirt growing increasingly tighter. She seemed to be having trouble standing, he noticed bemusedly. Slowly, he moved the hand that was on her waist to cup her head, gently pushing a strand of blonde hair away from her her face. And was it him, or did he just see the ghost of a smile pass over her face when he did that?

Her lips were soft, and she tasted like spring and sticky maple syrup with a hint of that bitter coffee. He smirked against her lips. She tasted like she looked. Sweet. Innocent. He wondered what Noah would think if he saw him kissing his daughter. The mental image was just hilarious.

He milked it for all it was worth. He ran his tongue over her lips, before nibbling on her bottom lip experimentally. She whimpered softly, and her left hand squeezed his shoulder reprimandingly. "And I thought you said you weren't enjoying this?" She hissed at him, her voice unnaturally shaky.

A cocky, half-grin floated onto his face. "We-e-ll..." She chuckled weakly against his lips, and something strange tugged at the back of his head. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it felt familiar, and yet out of place at the same time. He didn't have time to figure out what it was though, a screech of tires alerted him of Luke's arrival with the getaway car. And then the first shots were fired.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Claire blinked. That was the first thing she did when she heard the shots. Then she noticed that she felt something warm seeping onto her shirt. She looked down. Blood. And then she realised. Sylar had been shot. His eyes scrunched up, and taking a huge gulp of air, he flung his hand backwards, sending multiple people flying. Three more shots were hit him, and she felt Sylar jerk with each bullet.

"Claire!" Luke's voice, unnaturally harsh, screamed at her. "Move!"

His order jerked her out of her daze, and she snapped into action. She grabbed Sylar by the waist, using him as cover as she pushed him forward into the car. She felt numb, cold, listening intently to the bullets as Luke drove them at unholy speed away from the place. She let her head fall backwards against the soft leather. She had just saved him. Again.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Okay, I'm REALLY SORRY, but I have to split the chapter again, or there won't be another chapter for like... A LONG time. I'm really sorry this took so long! I've been in the land of writers block for a while now, and it's just *brain explodes* Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, it's the catalyst for the whole heroes/humans war plus the beginning of romanticness for Sylaire, so I AM SO EXCITED! You better be too! I think the next chap will be faster, but I can't be sure by the way things keep piling up. I will try and keep up regular updates though;)**

**Anyway, as always, my recommendations are; julyisfree, Purple Lex, cerberus angel,(who was a HUGE help on this chapter, BTW), Anei and PensAreAwesome and justforme83. There is a really good Sylaire fanfic that I just read, We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, that's just amazing, and I love it SOO much:D I'm Not The One by maydei is also super perf stuff, so check it out!;) Please leave a review, thank you, thank you so much!;)**


	7. Building 26: Part 2

**Buliding 26, 3x16, Part 2**

* * *

There were things falling apart in her head. Claire felt like pummelling her fists on his chest and screaming at him. Why had she saved him? She _hated_ him. He had almost killed her. Tried to kill her family. _Kissed _her. She blindly touched her fingers to her lips, tasting the salt of her tears. Her shoulders tensed. She knew it had been a pretense... It hadn't felt like in those romance books, where when the girl kisses the bad boy and the fireworks exploded or anything like that, god no. It had just... It had been different. It had felt a bit like a fire being lit in her stomach and on her lips. They stilll tingled. She dug her fingers into the leather seat, trying to vent out her frustrations. And she was _extremely_ frustrated.

They had outrun the agents three hours ago, but Claire would still turn her head at the sound of every passing car. Luke had silenced himself, and that was of great comfort to her right now. Sylar, their defence strategy, however, hadn't budged from his position on her lap. He had been hit pretty badly, and for some reason, he wasn't recovering as fast as he should be. She didn't know why, but she wasn't that worried. He had her power after all. What she _was _worried about was how they were going to get well, anywhere, with the gigantic bloodstains on her shirt and almost his entire body. He was literally covered in blood. She toyed with his way-too-long-for-a-guy fringe, thinking. Not just about that, but about other stuff too. When was she going to see her mom again? When was she going to see her dad? When was she going to see Nathan? Peter? And what were they all going to do about Nathan's big plan? She closed her eyes and let the world blur. She needed to stop thinking.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

_"Sylar?" There's a voice calling his name. It sounds like Claire. "Sylar!" A fist hit him in the chest. He groaned, opening his eyes. There wasn't any light anywhere, except for Claire, who seemed to be glowing from the inside out, like the proverbial angel she already resembled. Her eyes were angry, as usual when they stared into his, but he felt mesmerised by the colour of them, a glittering green that was interrupted by flecks of blue. _

_Every part of his body ached. He couldn't sit up. Hell, he didn't want to. _

_"Sylar!" Claire hit him in the chest again, and he yelled as the abused area throbbed. Geez, she really was strong. _

_"Claire, stop that." He grumbled, pushing himself up._

_"You have to stop them!" She yelled. Her eyes were wild, crazed and he'd never seen her look so scared. Then, out of the darkness came Nathan, with an army of agents. _

_"Their going to take you away." He glanced back at her, and was surprised to find her eyes brimming with tears. _

_"And here I was thinking you'd be glad to be rid of me." He smirked, trying to get her to smile. _

_She didn't, she just stared at him with an undecipherable expression. Then she moved forward, pressing her lips to his. His brain froze, his eyes closed, his heart stopped. There were a million reasons why he should stop her, why he couldn't let her distract him like this. He felt like he couldn't let her pull away and that was already too dangerous... He gave up and let his hands come up around her, pulling her to him. This felt right. It was right._

* * *

_Costa Verde, Sam's Comics..._

Lyle walked into the store, looking suspiciously around him. Hmmm... Alex, huh?

"Do you know a Alex?" He asked the guy at the counter, glancing at him suspiciously. The guy glanced around before giving him a grin.

"Yes... I'm Alex. Is there something I can help you with?"

Lyle took a deep breath, knowing full and well he sounded absolutely nuts.

"Is there something you can do? Something special, and it shouldn't be possible but it is?" The guy's face went white, and Lyle knew for sure he had the right guy. Claire used to get that look on her face all the time.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Alex's eyes narrowed as he looked the boy up and down. Had he seen him at the swim club or something and somehow tracked him here? His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. He couldn't know... He couldn't.

Lyle leaned over the counter, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you.. I'm here to tell you that someone is after you and you need to come with me if you wanna live." He thought he sounded pretty damn badass.

"I..." The door jingled and Lyle looked up just in time to see his dad walk in. _Shit._

"Get down!" He forced Alex's head down and behind the counter, before crouching down himself. Alex crawled down on his knees until he was next to Lyle behind the counter.

"Look, I don't know what's going on but..." Lyle clamped his hand over Alex's mouth. "Dude, you talk way too much." He glanced over at his dad, who was circling the 9th wonders collection, and looking around suspiciously.

Lyle jerked back to reality. "I'm going to distract him, and you're going to run out front and get in the grey SUV." He stuffed his keys haphazardly into Alex's hands. "When I run out and get in the car, we're gonna take off, okay?"

"Why should I even believe you?" Alex asked, expression stoic.

"I don't know, and I can't prove anything I'm saying, but I'm here for a reason, right?" Before Alex, could reply, he shoved him. "Now, shut up and stick to the plan."

Lyle stood up and walked steadily toward his dad.

"Hey dad, what're you doing here?" He grinned at his dad and randomly selected a comic book from the shelf next to him.

Noah jumped, his hand planted firmly on his gun.

"_Lyle_?" His dad's brow furrowed and his expression was incredulous. Lyle's smile didn't falter.

"No dad, it's Claire." He joked, flipping through the comic blandly. Then he noticed the pictures.

There was a girl in a cheerleading costume that said _Union Wells, _who looked exactly like Claire in her cheerleading days, splattered with blood. He flipped a page. His dad, in comic form, stared up at him, holding a gun to someone's head.

"It was written by a man with abilities. Like your sister. He could paint the future." He turned to his dad, who gave him a wry smile.

"Sure..." He put the comic back on the shelf. "..Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"What?" His father asked blankly, glancing around, his attention elsewhere. As usual.

He took a deep breath, "About Claire."

In an instant, his attention was back on Lyle.

"What about her? Has she called you? Emailed you?" His voice was alert and hopeful.

"No. But someone sent me a text." He turned to look his dad in the eye. He wanted to see the look on his face when he lied to him. Again.

"And the text said," he continued, "to help this guy who works here. Apparently, he's like Claire. I texted back and asked if Claire was okay. And this person said I should talk to you about it." He folded his arms. "I'm talking."

Noah frowned. Who...Who had known...Who could've... He sighed. It didn't matter, though he was quite sure it had something to do with a teenage boy with curly hair.

"Claire's in New York, with her grandmother. This...Whoever he was, obviously had his information wrong." He said impassively.

Lyle shook his head. "Then why are you here, dad? To read comics?" He heard a screech of tires outside and glancing out, he saw Alex in the driver's seat of his mom's SUV, glancing nervously around. Time to go.

"I..." He couldn't think of anything.

"Yeah, dad.." He patted his father on the shoulder, moving past him and towards the door, "..Keep thinking about it."

"Lyle, don't do this. Don't get involved." Lyle's eyes flashed and he turned back to Noah.

"I _am _involved. Mom is involved, we're all involved because Claire and you are our family. You act like it's only you and Claire, some little secret that you share, but it's not. We all know, we all go through it. And by keeping us out..." Lyle ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what you think you accomplish."

"I wanted to protect you!" Noah argued, moving towards him.

Lyle moved out of reach, one foot out the door.

"Well, you can't do it forever." He turned and ran onto the street dashing into the car. Noah watched, feeling... Proud.

**xxxxxxxx**

_In India..._

"I've been feeling so lost and confused." Her voice was still shaking. Ando wondered what could possibly be so horrible about her husband. Did she have someone else that she loved? Was he abusive? Having an affair? And if she didn't love him, why was she getting married. Ando felt like there were a lot of questions to be answered.

"I've asked the heavens for a sign whether I should marry or not." She continued, looking a him unsurely.

"A sign..." He mulled over this, thinking it over. He was supposed to stop Annapoora from getting married. She needed a sign. A sign...A _sign_. What better sign was better than red lightning shooting from his hands.

"Yes, a sign." He repeated, waving his hands for emphasis. He breathed, bringing his hands up and visualising his red lightning flowing from it. It didn't work. He exhaled, trying to focus. He focused on Hiro, and how much his destiny meant to him. He focused on Daphne, and what she told him about being a hero. These words seemed to flash in his mind. _That's what a hero does. They put their life on the line to save the people...People they... Care about. _

Heat flooded in his hands and he felt it spark and his hands lit up as red sparks flooded the air around them, shooting straight up into the ceiling. It slashed through a red cloth, and he watched in amazement as the cloth caught fire, and slowly extinguished after a few moments. He could start fires! He hadn't known that! He was like... He can't actually think of a superhero right now, but he's awesome! He can start fires.

He briefly hears Hiro's voice in the background, but he doesn't really hear what he's saying. There's this look of utter amazement on her face, and it feels really good. Like he's not a sidekick anymore. He's the hero.

"You are the sign.." She breathes, a huge smile spreading across her face. "You're the one I've been waiting for."

He hears Hiro talking saying something like_ he's_ the sign, but Annapoora isn't even paying attention. She's just looking at him like he's saved her life. Like he's amazing.

"That's it." She proclaims happily, not heeding Hiro's words at all. "The wedding's off!"

The wedding is off! He's just completed the mission! By himself! He looks from Annapoora to Hiro, feeling the shock running through his body. He's done something without Hiro. Something good. Hiro looks like the world has been ripped from him, but he can't care less right now. He's a hero!

**xxxxxxxxxx**

"Turn right." Lyle instructed Alex. His house seemed like the safest bet for now. He doubted his dad would come there and try to get them. Plus, with Claire gone, if people were really after Specials, their house would be presumed a special-free zone.

Alex pulled into the driveway. He paused in the seat, took a deep breath, and turned to Lyle.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice shaking.

Lyle grinned and extended a hand. "Just call me Superman."

Alex took the hand, but his face was unamused.

"I am _not _going to call you 'superman'."

Lyle's grin faltered. "It sounded better in my head." He admitted.

"I'm serious. Who are you? How did you know about me?"

Lyle pulled out his phone and brought up the text, passing it to Alex. Alex stared at it, his eyes narrowed and brow wrinkled.

"Rebel? Who's Rebel? What are they rebelling against?" Alex tossed the phone back to him.

"I don't know, but whoever it is... I'm pretty sure they saved your life."

**xxxxxxxx**

Ando grinned and picked out a brown cake-looking thing out of the tray the nice Indian lady held out to him. It smelled good.

"The house specialities; rasmalai, kheer, halwa and jamun." She announced, retracting the tray with a slightly miffed look when Hiro didn't pick anything. Ando ignored Hiro's troubled look and turned back to Annapoora. He was making it so obvious that he was jealous.

"So this is your place?" He asked, taking a bite out of the... He wasn't sure if it was kheer or jamun.. It tasted sweet and crunchy. It was too bad- Hiro would probably have loved it.

Annapoora nodded, smiling. "Yes, with Shaila." She looked over at her friend, her smile seemingly growing wider. "We opened to years ago," she continued, sitting down across from them." A slight cloud passed over her face. "Against my grandfathers wishes."

"You're grandfather?" Ando took another huge bite out of the cake/biscuit.

Annapoora shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the subject. "He believes in tradition. He thinks that women should be at home, raising the children, not starting up businesses. That's why he arranged my marriage to Deepak." She fiddled with her rings.

"But you don't love Deepak." Ando wondered about this.

Annapoora shook her head, getting a dark look in her eyes. "He is a powerful and dangerous man, above the law." Her voice was laced with fear.

Hiro's eyebrows peaked. No one was above the law!

"My grandfather was too frightened to deny his request to marry." She shuddered.

"You must be hungry, my hero." She shook herself out of it, getting to her feet. "Let me bring you more." She moved back towards the kitchen.

Ando turned to Hiro, who was staring morosely off into the distance. Ando sighed.

"What's the matter with you?" Hiro refused to look at him.

"We came all this way, and you stole my chance to get my powers back." Ando didn't think he'd ever heard him so upset and disappointed before. Not even when he didn't get to go to Comic Con when they were 10.

Ando sighed. "I only stopped the wedding, like the drawing said!" He argued back in Japanese.

Hiro looked at him, looking more than a little sulky. "The drawing wanted me to stop the wedding!" He turned away from Ando again.

Ando rolled his eyes. "Hiro, I have a power now. I wanted to help that girl, so I did."

Hiro's reply was almost instantaneous. "Well you did it wrong!"

_Argh._ Ando' brows knitted in frustration. "No, I did it my way." His ego kicked in. "And that's what really bothers you. That I have powers and you don't!" He crowed the last sentence triumphantly. "You can't stand the fact that you're now my sidekick!"

Hiro couldn't explain how much the last sentence hurt him. He knew he wasn't supposed to be jealous, but it bothered him. Ando... He hadn't wanted powers. He didn't buy into the idea of heroes, not like Hiro himself did. He crushed the feeling irritably, his eyes falling from Ando's face. How could Ando say that to him? He had brought Ando into this life. Ando wouldn't _have_ powers without him. But he was also right. Deep inside, he did feel like that. He sighed.

Just then, an Indian man in a well-tailored suit burst into the deli, started speaking in Tamil to Shaila, who's eyes flashed with something that Hrio didn't like. He watched as her hands clenched at her sides, and she, albeit reluctantly, flicked her eyes to the room behind her. The man's eyes sparked angrily and he swung into the room, talking loudly in Tamil.

Shaila's eyes met their inquisitive gaze. "Deepak." She grimaced. "The groom."

Ando, looked over at Hiro, who looked defeated in a way Ando had never felt possible. "Go on, 'hero'." Hiro smiled half-heartedly. "Save the day." He repeated in Japanese when Ando didn't move. And it was the way he said it, without any sarcasm that made Ando truly regret what he had said.

Ando stood, moving into the room Deepak had just entered. He was towering over her, shouting as Annapoora's eyes glinted with unshed tears and she spoke back in fast, rushed Tamil.

"Excuse me." Ando's voice rang confidently through the kitchen area. "Is everything okay in here?"

Deepak didn't reply, his eyes just swept disdainfully over him before moving back to Annapoora, who seemed to have calmed slightly at seeing him.

"Who the hell is this?" He demanded in perfect English.

"This is Ando." Her eyes met Ando's anxiously. "He is my friend."

"I see." He seemed to pause for a second, as if connecting the dots. "So you cancelled the wedding because of him?" He screamed suddenly, and both Annapoora and Ando flinched.

"No, no sir you are mistaken I'm just a guest, sir!" Ando panicked as Deepak reached behind him, grabbing a metal pan and raising it over his head and waving it around.

"NO, sir, calm down sir!" Ando yelled as he moved towards the agitated man, trying to diffuse the situation. It didn't really work out very well. Annapoora's screams seemed to blend in his head as Deepak brought the frying pan down on his head with a resounding crash. Everything shook, and then, slowly, faded away.

**xxxxxxxxx**

Luke pulled up at a motel. It was half-past eight, and he was tired of driving. He glanced back at the two of his... "Friends". Sylar had twisted in his sleep, his face in her arms. Claire's mouth was hanging open, her eyes closed and her right hand wrapped halfway around his neck and her left around his stomach. His lips quirked up at the side. They looked like such an odd match, but there was something about them that just seemed to fit, in a way he was sure didn't happen in a whole lot of couples. Definitely not his mom and dad.

Maybe it was the way they looked like utter opposites, his hair dark and splayed all over her lap, his mainly black clothes set against with her white sweater and pale blue jeans. She was small and blonde, he was too tall and dark. And even in his house, when she was tied up, no one could have denied the sparks of (angry) fire that had flown between them. There seemed to be a connection, no matter what Claire said about them.

He sighed. One more girl he (probably) wouldn't be getting. Oh well.

"Wake up." He whispered, tapping on Claire's shoulder. He didn't dare touch Sylar. Who knew? Maybe he had some "touch me and I kill you" rule. Either way, waking up Claire was a safer bet. Let the indestructible girl wake up the serial killer.

"Huh..." Claire slowly opened her eyes, seemingly having forgotten where she was. Her eyes froze on him, then slowly moved down to Sylar. She let out a sound that was a cross between a snort and a squeal and pushed Sylar off of her lap in a panic, and he fell to the car floor in a heap. He stayed there for a moment, and Claire and Luke stared at him, tensed up. And then, a low groan filled the car, and he rolled over, eyes closed.

"I'm going to kill both of you. And it's going to be extremely painful." He murmured, and Claire rolled her eyes.

She reached under the seat, grabbing a pouch and tossing it to Luke. "Get a room and pay the guy extra money not to say anything about its blood covered occupants, and no questions, got it?" Luke nodded wide-eyed as she tossed him a huge wad of notes. He had no idea being a serial killer paid so well.

Claire kicked Sylar in the ribs, and he growled at her. "Get up." She said, refusing to look at him.

Grudgingly, Sylar pushed himself up, moving toward the door. It hurt. Everywhere _hurt_.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

_In India..._

"Ando!" Hiro burst into the room, waving the French loaf he had haphazardly picked up around threateningly. Annapoora was huddled in the corner, weeping, but there was no Ando.

"Deepak hit him with this." She held up a frying pan. "Ando collapsed." She sobbed harder.

"And then?" Hiro moved towards her, his heart beating faster.

"Deepak carried him off!" Her tears fell faster. His heart clenched. Ando... He steeled himself. He was going to find him. And _he_ would be the hero.

**xxxxxxxxx**

_Ahhh..._ Claire fell back on the bed, exhausted and refreshed after her shower. The bed was huge, enough for two people and she had claimed it first so... She hugged the pillow to her chest, grinning. No couch for her. She was just about to drift off when she felt someone lie down next to her. Slowly, she opened one eye, peeking at the intruder. Sylar smirked back at her. Her eyes narrowed, and she shoved him away.

"Get. Off. My. Bed." She grit her teeth.

"_Our _bed." He verified, smirking at her.

"It's not _ours_, it's mine." She protested. "I was here first."

"Did you really think me and Luke were going to share the couch?" He gave her a dubious look.

"You could sleep on the floor." She refuted weakly, looking down at the grubby looking carpet and those...She squinted. Tiny looking... _things_ moving around in them.

"So could you." He argued. Claire bit her lip, looking back down at the floor.

_Fleas or Sylar?_

She considered it. Fleas would take hours to get rid of... She was stuck with Sylar either way. Finally, she groaned and fell backwards, rolling over away from him, the exhaustion in her bones getting the better of her.

"Touch me, and I will gouge your eyeballs out with a spoon." She warned him.

"And _I_ wanted to spoon." He whispered back into her ear as he flicked his hands and the lights went off. She snorted and kicked at his long legs beside her. He chuckled, and she covered her head with a pillow.

"Hey!" Luke yelled from... Claire didn't really know where he was. "I'm not do-" He was cut off and she heard a thump from somewhere in the room. Whatever.

She closed her eyes and let the sound of the too-loud air-conditioning lull her to sleep.

** xxxxxxxxx**

_In India..._

Annapoora fussed with her earring, glancing at Hiro in the mirror. "Deepak will let Ando go if I follow my commitment to marry." Her voice was thick with tears that she was too tired to shed, and a hard determination.

"And if you don't?" Annapoora paused at Hiro's question, her shoulder's sagging and her gaze wavering. And then she was back, and avoiding his eyes.

"I must prepare for the wedding." She said briskly, her voice suddenly cold. Her sari glinted in the sunlight as she moved away from him.

"I can save you, you know." Hiro said quietly. "I can be the hero."

Annapoora stopped, before turning slowly to face him. She was smiling, but her eyes were sad.

"I'm tired of waiting for heroes. There are too many villains in this world for all of us to outrun." She gave him another sad smile, and gently squeezed his hand. "But thank you, Hiro. For trying."

Hiro watched her go, a plan hatching in his mind. He _would _save her. Heroes, no matter how unlikely, would always win. These last few years had taught him nothing, if not that.

**xxxxxxxx**

The priest had already started the ceremony when Hiro arrived. Hiro raced forwards, bursting through the crowd.

"Stop!" He yelled. "This wedding cannot go on." He paused, stepping forward so that he was closer to the both of them. "Annapoora is being forced into this against her will."

Annapoora's eyes widened, and she looked at Deepak with pleading eyes, as if begging him to let her go.

"You are making a mistake." Deepak's voice was laced with menace and anger.

"You have kidnapped my friend!" Hiro shouted louder. "I want him back. He is being held hostage!" Hiro reached the stage, and stood next to Annapoora. He had faced guys like Deepak before, back when he had had no control over his powers. He had still won.

Deepak leapt to his feet, clearly wanting to defend his actions. "It is not I who broke our engagement." He looked at Annapoora accusingly, who shrunk under his gaze.

"She does not want to marry you." Hiro said in a clear, even voice. Now Annapoora was standing too, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

An old man in the front row stood, and Annapoora's eyes immediately met his. "Anna? Is this true?"

Annapoora felt like her heart was breaking when she looked him in the eyes. She had already let him down so much... She didn't want to have to do it again, but... She glanced at Shaila. There were important things, things she _really _wanted to do. She stepped forward, twining her hands with his.

"All my life I've tried to please you, grandfather." Her eyes flicked to Shaila's once more, who smiled at her encouragingly. "But if I marry Deepak, I will be giving up what matters to me most." Shaila's smile grew wider. "Perhaps a traditional marriage is not my destiny." It was like a weight was lifted off of her chest. Finally... She sighed in relief. She didn't have to lie anymore. She gazed at her grandfather, hoping he'd understand.

"I just want you to be happy, my child." Annapoora grinned, pulling her grandfather into a hug. Hiro smiled. The moment, however, was broken by Deepak, who pulled the two apart.

"We had a deal, and you broke it." He grabbed Annapoora roughly by the wrists. "The woman and the bakery belong to me." He dragged her with him as he moved through the crowd. Hiro's anger flared. He hated men like him. They were horrible, mean people who undervalued all around them in favour of pleasing themselves.

He pushed through the crowd until he reached them. "You leave her alone." He punched with all his might at Deepak's face and watched with pride as he fell. His father really had been a good teacher. He grabbed a knife, holding it up as Deepak pushed his upper body off the ground, clutching at his nose.

"Give me back my friend." Hiro demanded. Deepak's eyes scanned the crowd of onlookers, his expression slightly panicked. He seemed to come to a decision.

"That's it! The wedding's off!" He announced. "You're too much trouble, I don't want to marry you. And you can have your lousy friend back." He rose to his feet angrily, before marching off in the other direction.

A wide, childlike smile crossed Hiro's face. He did it! And then it clicked. This was the moment... The moment in the painting! The words tumbled out of his mouth and he only half registered Annapoora's curious gaze on him. "This is me, being the hero! Yatta!" He raised his hands, that wonderful feeling coursing through his body. He was a hero... Without his powers.

**xxxxxxxxx**

Tracy groaned, her eyes flickering open. The heat was unbearable... Again. The chains clinked behind her and she felt the familiar metal burning her wrists. Her eyes focused on the dark figure in front of her. _Nathan._ Her lips drew into a sneer.

He pounced the minute the agents fixing her chain back into place left. "Tracy, I don't know how you did it." He paused, making sure she was looking at him. "But you better get used to the heat, because you are _never_," He emphasised each syllable, "getting out of here again."

She smirked, tossing her hair out of her face. "We both know what you did, Nathan." Her voice became hard. "Broken chain, unlocked door." She moved against the chains so that they were a hairsbreadth away. "I may be a blonde, but it doesn't take a genius to add things up." She fell back against the chair, watching him.

His mind worked at a furious pace, trying to process the information. "You wanted me to escape." She continued. Her smile was almost delirious when she said, "And you know what? Next time, I will."

He moved out of the room without another word.

**xxxxxxxxx**

"You were right, Hiro. I should never have interrupted the course of destiny." Ando smiled at him, relieved to be back with his friend.

"No apologies, my friend..." Hiro's eyes were sparkling again. "I realised why I was sent to India, and it wasn't to get my powers back. I was sent here to realise that I can be a hero. Without my powers." He grinned at Ando happily.

Ando smiled, nodding slowly. He was right. He_ had_ saved his life; without powers. Annapoora drew up at their table, clutching a paper.

"I finally figured out why your names are so familiar." She said, smiling, and Hiro felt a deep seated satisfaction with himself. He doubted she'd be smiling if she had married Deepak.

"A fax came in addressed to Hiro and Ando, see?" She held out the paper with the neatly typed English words.

Hiro squinted. "It's from someone named, Rebel." He held out the paper for Ando to see.

Ando scanned the paper quickly. All it said was... He drew in a sharp breath. "Save Daphne," he read, "She's alive..." He jumped up, grabbing the paper from Hiro. "It gives us an address, somewhere in Washington, Hiro, we have to go, now!"

He moved so fast he didn't have time to roll his eyes as he heard Hiro cry, "It's a message from destiny!"

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

The bed was shaking. Claire groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over her head. The shaking stopped and she heard a whimper, then a soft but unmistakable, "I didn't mean to!"

The bed dipped, and Claire opened her eyes. Sylar's shadow loomed over her as he moved away from the bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she blinked, looking for the serial killer. He was sitting against the wall at the end of the bed, in his jeans with no shirt on, and even Claire couldn't deny how _normal_ he looked. _Approachable, _as his shoulder's shook from the force of his nightmare. He had nightmares. Like an actual guy.

Slowly, Claire got out of the bed and moved towards him. His eyes lifted toward her, guarded and shrouded by the darkness. And then, in the dim lighting she noticed the tears that shone on his face. He was _crying. _She didn't know why, but sitting like that, he reminded her of Lyle, a very long time ago. When he used to be afraid of the dark. Somehow, Claire thought that for Sylar, maybe it was the opposite. Maybe he was afraid of the light.

She watched his tear-track lined face carefully as she cautiously made her way over to him. His hand lifted as if to stop her, but she spoke.

"I know we're supposed to be enemies and everything," she said as she came up beside him, "but maybe," she got to her knees, "just this once, we could forget about that, and I could be Claire, comforting a nice, random guy." She couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at her, like she was an angel heaven had sent down for him. It felt kinda good actually, even though it was _Sylar_.

"What's wrong?" She used a lilting, pretty voice that Sylar imagined she had used for her little brother once upon a time.

He knew he should be pushing her away, laughing in her face but... A part of him wanted her comfort. Probably his Gabriel acting up again.

He shuddered, turning away from her. "It was my mom." He said finally.

"What about her?" Claire asked, in that same, flowery tone.

"I was dreaming... About her death." He cleared his throat, not liking how weak and needy he sounded. "I killed her."

And then again, in a horrified voice, "_I killed her."_

_Her voice rang in his ears. "You're not my son!"_

Sylar kept his gaze straight, not daring to look at her face, to see the malice and disgust that was most likely there. The mocking. Sylar, the monster, crying about his mother? Even he had to admit, that was slightly pathetic, considering the fact that he had stolen so many mothers from their children.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then she spoke. "It's okay." His shoulder's tensed.

Claire didn't know why she was telling him it was okay. There was no way it was okay. Killing your mom was not okay. But this was the first time she'd seen him express any sort of remorse for his victims, and somehow that made it... Sort of okay.

He was still shaking, and Claire couldn't help it, seeing him like this. She felt like the old Claire again, just helping out a guy in need.

Slowly she reached out, her hand gently cupping his cheek and turning him to face her. She could feel his stubble on her palm, his uneven shaken breathing and the heat of his gaze that threatened to burn her alive when his eyes met hers. His stare reminded her of the dining room table, like she had something he wanted really bad.

"It's okay..." She repeated, her voice quivering.

He turned to face her fully, and all of a sudden they were too close and Claire regretted coming over here. His eyes were shining with that familiar darkness, and Claire felt her breath catch. Momentarily, his eyes shifted to her lips, but in a second they were back to her eyes and all the vulnerability she had just seen vanished. Her hand was still on his cheek.

Slowly, oh so slowly, his left hand moved up hers, tracing a path from her elbow to her wrist until it rested on her hand, atop his cheek. His eyes burned her as he spoke.

"Maybe we should just stay in our assigned roles." His voice was hard, cold and just slightly more than a whisper, but it rang loud and clear in her ears."You know," his eyes trailed over her disdainfully, "Monster and his..." His lips quirked into a sneer. "_Everlasting_ victim."

Claire felt her stomach drop, and her throat clenched tightly with anger, frustration and...Hurt.

He was a bastard with no heart and no soul, and she was never going to speak to him again. She had given him a slight the tiniest bit of sympathy, which was a whole lot more than anyone else would have ever given him, and he had turned it away. _He didn't need sympathy_, she realised. She was never going to be so stupid again._ He needed darkness, hurt and pain_. Unwelcome tears sprang to her eyes as she withdrew her hand as if it had been stung, and raced back to her bed, pulling the covers over her head.

Sylar stayed where he was, watching the shadows she made as she walked away from him.

* * *

**HELLO HELLO! So haha, Daphne's not dead! WOOHHOOOO! So, I'm really sorry I took like *checks date* three months for this chapter, that was just horrible of me...But if you don't mind, REVIEWWWW and tell me what you think and if there are any story plots you would like to see happen, because *dundundun* ITS AN AU! **

**Okay, and you already know what my recommendations are, julyisfree, Purple Lex, cerberus angel etc. so I will recommend xReaderx to you because I was reading her oneshots today and they just made me cry and cry and cry with all the angstiness! It's just amazing, seriously, especially 'I Know Well'. Also, thank you to Latios963(she's an amazing fanfic writer too, not for this fandom, but for Harry P. and assorted others), and my friend Kiwi(she writes the most amaze poetry on tumblr) for helping out with this, you two are SOOO AMAZING it's just not possible. TATA FOR NOW! **

**And as for the short, random, Sylaire scene up there in italics, all will be revealed soon*jazz hands* Love, kisses, and psychopathic hot serial killlers;) **


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